The Phrases
by Ardina
Summary: Join the fray in the Verses of the Undying as Livia Vandersteine is forced from her moulded plans to face the demons that inhabit her childhood haunts. Away from the glittering lights of a prescribed reality, she finds more than she bargains for tempting the shadows out to play beneath the moon... [Note: Stand alone tale, only inspired by the vivacious portrayal of the category.]
1. Synopsis

_Synopsis_

Victorious, the ice-gypsy may have retired from the intrusive glare of the camera at the height of her appeal, but the youngest member of the House of Vandersteine was still playing an ever fraudulent role for the glittering company she deliberately kept.

Loved from the intimate circles of London to the fashionable sets of New York, there wasn't a darling more coveted than she, but like every soul of consequence there were literal demons buried in the murky foothills of her past.

All the same, the decade long pretence of emotional success has long since begun to wane for not even a jaded wit, or a refined taste for the extravagant, could fill the growing void of dissatisfaction within. Yet fate has not yet had its fill of its last daughter - the old land can never be as easily forgotten as some misshapen events might choose to be.

Through binding promises made much before her time, for deeds beyond a mere mortal's comprehension, it is finally the hour of her homecoming - willing, or not.

After all, there are demons to placate and whilst she had achieved the life she wanted, it was unfortunately not the life she was destined for...


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

"to the wonderful night world inhabited without you"

From where she sat the loud music could still be heard from the lower section of the nightclub, its resounding and rhythmic base was hard to avoid as it punctuated the serene decor of the exclusive lounge. It was apparent that not even the firmly shut door, guarded by a discernible bouncer, ensured her complete respite.

The sound's rumbling vibrations even echoed up through the body of the plush leather sofa she reclined against - sound waves obviously made no distinction for the rich who had tired themselves on the dance floor below.

Still, she enjoyed the way the smokey room closed in around her in the dim light. It was strangely suffocating as she sat there in the darkened corner and in that fact alone she found some form of blessed isolation. It was something at least.

In all, there was little chance of a natural smile forming on her lips tonight, but even morose, there were aesthetic standards to be upheld.

Her petite feet were encased in an expensive leather that only ever originated from Italy, Milan to be pedantic. Naturally high, to take account of her petite stature, they were of an understated colour that was neither too dark nor too light. Neat and piercing, they lay idle as her feet rested on the sheer glass of the low coffee table before her seated position.

Oddly, they didn't bother to tap in time with the beat as they usually did.

Of course, the lack of her usual extroverted personality took nothing away from the flawless presentation. From the tips of the high heels on the soles her small feet to the delicately flexed ankles and up along the bared line of her legs, all the way up until a short, plain, denim skirt concealed her modesty - this was still the sight of an attractive woman.

Emboldened, lean and apparently on the make to an unpracticed eye.

Beyond a large silver buckle at her hips, she was more modestly attired with a long sleeved polo neck in the becoming colour of duck egg blue to accent her eyes. She had considered the black version earlier in the evening, but had dismissed the idea - there was no point in completely broadcasting her dissatisfaction with life.

All in all, a rather conservative display of her best assets, but the fabric still came to cling in all the right places that flattered a woman.

Admittedly, it was a more simple ensemble that she had chosen in her distracted state earlier in the day, but a designer wardrobe had the benefit of ensuring she looked her best from day to night, even if it was only a last minute endeavour not to be alone.

Yes, currency had most certainly always had its benefits and it was indeed hard to miss that everything about the woman screamed one word, and that word was simply money.

From the gold adornments around her wrist to the fashionable London nightclub she frequented. It was all provided for by pure undulated money, but more importantly it was the manner in which it was spent that spoke volumes for her origin.

You'd find nothing too ghastly flamboyant in her tastes - oh no, this was a sign of wealth born to.

The strong blare of music suddenly burst through into the smoke filled room for a brief instant as another soul entered the small lounge to walk past the corner containing her seated area and on to the demurely lit bar beyond, but she took no notice. The beat of the music barely matched the alternating beat of her heart as she sat there with her head resting against the back of the sofa.

She had been dancing all night, was near complete exhaustion with the amplified effort to smile and lose a little piece of herself in all the different melodies, but her restlessness mood persisted.

She danced every night at times like these, but she still remained restless.

With her divinely manicured fingertips she deftly lifted a cigarette to her lips and pulled in a deep breath without so much of a grimace for the choking tar that invaded her lungs. Rather than react badly to the adhoc pastime, she expertly held the breath close to herself for a moment in the hope it might help to dispel her current thoughts, but the usual balm to her stressed mind did nothing to ease the worsening fragmentation.

As she put her hand back down to hang over the arm of the leather sofa, she exhaled slowly in short puffs through darkened lips as she created small rings of smoke that widened before they eventually dissipated into the gloom. Despite being unable to correctly judge their murky progress as they faded and died, her blue eyes focused with a mean intent on the innocent rings.

Nicotine had seemingly failed to revive her flagging spirits.

So had dancing the night away with abandon, as had achieving the common buzz of brandy in her blood, nothing had dampened the anger she felt roiling just below the surface of her care free veneer. It shouldn't have bothered her - the tone, the look or the timing of his visit - but it did.

She felt another wave of resentment swiftly rise and the bitter taste did nothing for her, normally, generous nature. All of it, the failed expectation, the simmering anger and the stupid need for something more, was aimed solely at her estranged brother.

As if drawn by magnetism, her head slowly rose from where it rested on the back of the sofa and she stared hard at the plane ticket that had arrived by courier a few days ago. Like a poisonous snake, it sat there, on the glass table beside her idle heels - it sat there and it mocked her with its presence.

Of course, it was a one-way ticket to the dark, forgotten depths of central Europe, near enough as one could get to the very place she had once called home. It was dated for the previous morning. A wasted business class ticket that would, unfortunately, not even set her dear brother back in funds for all his wasted efforts.

The cursed brother of hers.

The older brother of hers.

The half-brother of hers.

Her traditional and very conformist brother, Marc Vandersteine.

She pointedly refused to acknowledge his title, considering it too pompous for the modern age they lived in, but that sentiment was unlikely to deter her brother who was likely sat in a luxurious manor somewhere out in the darkest hole the Balkans could offer.

Politely cursing her failed arrival.

Of course, he was unlikely to understand her predicament, unlikely to find her present past time appealing either.

In fact, her brother dearest had lost his ability for empathy the moment he had decided to become a man in every disgusting faucet of the term. Without looking back at his younger, more sensitive sibling, he had followed in their father's footsteps to become a near enough pillar of society with all the common folk available at his beckoning to reassure him of his sainthood.

Or divine status among them, she savagely bit.

From that auspicious time onwards, it had been abundantly clear that the cause of sibling tension had never stemmed from the two, very different, women they had each called mother at one point in their lives - the elder child having been a full blooded native as it were, and the younger child a hybrid with her, hotter, Irish blood.

A moot point when both children had eventually been left motherless.

Unfairly, she chose to believe that her brother had merely coped better than she as the more unfeeling of the two when her mother had died. At that point it had already been years since Marc had pulled away to produce the fine character that was expected of him and it had been easy for her to believe that he hadn't felt the loss of a step-mother.

Even if he had, it was the type of emotional response that would have been subdued as social dictate demanded.

She deliberately chose not to reflect upon their father's untimely death.

In a sudden movement she leaned forward towards the glass table and stabbed the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray just like that. It languished in a bed of old ash, put out and half finished, its innards of brown tobacco lay bare.

He's more than welcome to play Lord of Manor, she thought with acid. Let him keep Hunter's Fall - it's useless to me anyway.

Her life was all around her now after the years she had chosen to be away from home. Any city had at first sufficed, but later she had always returned to London over any other. It was in the distinct hustle and constant bustle of the city that she preferred to remain, where she could feel alive at the opportunities around her and be loved for it at the same time.

Even if it was transitory, the majority certainly loved her whilst the minority envied her. After all, she was the life of the party. The cliché, the darling, and most definitely one of the few to possess wit as well as money.

Always the life of the party, she reaffirmed to herself.

Though it did remarkably little to relieve her boredom lately.

She reached for a full shot glass that perched amongst several on the table by her feet and threw it back with practiced vigour before slamming it back down on the table - upside down as was the convention.

It burned like the very devil as it scorched its way over her tongue and down her throat, it sucked the air from her lungs and brought a tear to her eye, but in the end it served its purpose to distract her from one pain to another.

As the drug of choice howled through her system to work as one amongst others, she remembered her brother's surprise visit from only the other week. It had certainly been a surprise as the two had not see each other in a very, very long time.

He showed up…

She recalled the morning her butler had regretfully woken her some time in the late afternoon after an even later night and informed her of her brother's presence. Quite clearly, she had been shocked at the announcement, but dearly curious at the same time.

Dressed in a thin robe of the softest pink she had put aside her sore head and gently padded down the staircase in bare feet to seek out her guest, but her curiosity had very soon been sated in the face of something else.

He judged me…

She remembered his disapproving glance at her attire when she had first walked in to greet him. Of course, any look had soon turned into a glare as he had taken pride of place to sit at her breakfast table and demand the reasons for her apparent misbehaviour.

He insulted me…

She called to mind the pointed remarks he'd made over the hours she kept, the state she greeted her guests, but unforgivably he'd dare to remark on her pictures. Considered old by the fashionable world by the time he'd decided to make a degrading commentary, her framed, much prized magazine covers which graced some of her internal house walls were from the days when she had struck out independently and succeeded without her family.

She highly doubted that he'd been best pleased when she shortly threw him out of her home without any good grace. It was the sort of action that would have earned her a disowning.

But then he summons me like a serf…

Her thoughts drew closer to the present and to the curt note that had arrived two days ago. Written on expensive vellum, it had been brief and to the point - informing her that she was to present herself at Hunter's Fall as per the prescribed arrangements in the travel documents that had been attached.

In a condescending fashion that had set her teeth on edge, dear Marc had also included an addendum stipulating that, as her brother, he would be making suitable amendments to her current lifestyle.

That it was time she realised where her place was.

Force me to accept it more like.

If she was a mind reader then it seemed the first change he wished to make was to be her removal from the dastardly influences of London's underground - at twenty-nine years old with plenty of shares in the right places, she had rightfully tossed the note and the idea it represented to the side and left it to rot.

Still, some would consider it rather odd that despite the previous claim, she continued to sit and contemplate the one-way ticket as it rested innocently enough upon the glass coffee table. Alone with her thoughts, she was punishing herself even though the latest opportunity had long since passed to make things right between the siblings.

Some forms of baggage are easier to lose than others, she thought.

Reaching across the table for the last shot glass, she moved a stray lock of blond hair from her precisely shadowed eye and was about to knock another one back when she felt the depression of the seat next to her own.

The movement was accompanied by a masculine voice, "Darling, so far from the lights and sound - what are you doing in here all alone?"

"Avoiding reality," was her reply.

At the disturbance of her peace, she paused only momentarily before consuming the last vial of poison. In the subsequent burning aftermath of the shot, the sound of her own accent replayed in her head and held the distinct tones of an all girl's school room which was yet another burning difference between the two siblings.

Whilst Marc had taken pride in their shared heritage and remained close to their father to learn the old ways, she had fled at the first opportunity to seek a very British education.

Not for love, nor money had she returned since the tender age of sixteen - not even when their parents had died in a fatal accident.

Stunning.

Sudden.

The accident had come out of the blue, not suspected in any measure, but it had happened all the same and the hard proof had been in receiving the final account of her parent's will and testimony. Surprisingly, she and not her brother had been left the deed to their childhood home - with chains included of course.

Perhaps, in a way it was supposed to bring her home to them from beyond the grave, but it had never worked, whatever their reasons. Indeed, she had been left vast stretches of land by her father and had claimed none of it, preferring to leave Marc to deal with it.

Yes, she was indeed avoiding reality as much as possible.

Arguably, she had been doing exactly that for the last thirteen years of her life.

"You should be chasing dragons with Lewis if you're after that," her masculine companion replied too easily. "I hear he's got his hands on a fresh supply of gutter glitter."

She didn't bother to look at him.

He was a friend of a friend's acquaintance and she had no will to be socialising with the remnants of distant memories swirling in her clouded mind. It made for trying conversation when her will was conflicted, but as the pleasant haze began to swirl and dip around her she remained where she was. It was clear something was finally going her way tonight as pleasant memories finally responded to the buzz of stimulant in her blood to and began to crawl across her mind's eye.

Memories of long walks out in the secluded woods, of her laughing mother with blue, blue eyes and hair the colour of fire…

"I found Lewis to be expensive in more ways than one," she finally said. "It's a little too late for me anyway."

When she realised he had not taken the hint to leave from her tone, she sighed and then continued in a more charitable manner, "And why are you not out there?"

"I'm enjoying the view in here at the moment," he concluded smartly.

"Well, you might find that you'd be more successful blaggin' it out there."

She turned an arresting gaze on him once the words were out and couldn't fail to notice how he leaned closer towards her, the intent in his gaze was obvious even if his charm wasn't. It wasn't his fault, they were generally drawn to a face that could sell the image of perfection.

"Breaks my heart to see you so preoccupied," he said ignoring her brush off.

"That's not all I'll break by the end of it-"

"That hurt," he interrupted her. "What's got you so tense?"

"Thinking isn't a pleasant past time of mine," she said with a small smile curling her lips.

"The great James Williamson upped and left you then?"

At the question she released a peel of laughter as if it was the best joke she had heard all night.

That he had left her amused her to no end.

After the week she had experienced, the end to her short engagement had barely made an appearance in the revolving door of her thoughts. It should have, if it had meant anything, but like all things that came and went - hindsight only allowed a little of its passing to occupy her time.

After her outburst of laughter had ceased, a slightly amused look encompassed her pleasing features. She sat up and dropped her legs to the floor before taking a swig of her alternative brandy and cherries before she nestled back down again.

"Well?"

"What?"

She turned towards him in irritation as she asked the question, belatedly noticing his subtle glance to the range of alcoholic drink on the table.

"What happened to James?"

At the reminder a mask slid over her features, she presented something cold for the rest of the world to see. Uncaring, crass, an expected picture as if it never mattered to her beyond the pretence.

"Oh him, he proposed the other week like I'd thought he would and it sent my big brother into a frenzy apparently, but please," she paused with a veneer of smug satisfaction, "James was more like a Monday to me."

She quirked a fine eyebrow and added, "Like him, my tastes are as varied as a revolving door."

"Williamson doesn't like the word no, are you sure you want to play him this way?"

Internally she was surprised by the serious undertones that he used, she had expected a quick attempt at humour, it was the angle she was playing, but it didn't come immediately. It was as if he was genuinely surprised at her care free attitude to her ex-fiancé.

"I don't owe him anything," she firmly said. "My life is my own."

He seemed to understand the subject was one best left alone once the final word was sneered at him, but it didn't kill his desire to embark on equally dangerous ground. There were obviously some things that were worth the risk of a set down.

"In that case, yesterday was Tuesday, today is Wednesday, so tell who's warming your bed this evening?"

"Certainly not you mes amiz", she quipped tightly and removed her eyes from him to her drink which was downed in the same fashion as the shots.

Having drained her seventh beverage and in light of the company, she was ready to call an end to her night and retire to her blessedly empty house. In an abrupt turn of tastes, she had truly had enough of the bright lights. Her less frequent outings for an overdose were wearing thin.

She wasn't tall, but the lurch to her feet threatened to send her head spinning. Still, with a practised gait that alcohol could not defy, she pivoted perfectly on her heels away from her brief companion and strode towards the lounge door without much of a sign of her partial inebriation.

Of course, the ticket remained behind on the coffee table, but it was certainly not as easily placed from her mind.

With customary good manners she smiled as the bouncer tipped his hat to her with a familiarly worded goodnight and then she was passed the first barrier, descending into the lower enclaves of pure noise and light.

As usual, she hated this particular part of every one of her evenings. It had always been the same when it came to the trip home, always alone despite her words, when she was just at the point where the world was a large see-saw and she wasn't quite the right type of drunk to make it pleasurable.

Control was all to necessary to her being in order to make it so.

She took delicate steps towards the main entrance in the dark as people all around her danced to the reverberating waves of sound around them. It wasn't long before all the beautiful people called for her to join them because she was ultimately one of them by appearance. With her swagger and self-possession - it was a front they believed and wanted more of.

Their original darling.

The one to always call when you're in town, or more precisely, London town.

The fashionable one.

The rich one.

The gorgeous one.

Even though she was certainly tempted to blight her mood further with drink, she felt the ache of her feet more and proceeded to coolly wave to them all with a brilliant smile even as she tapered off towards the doors. It was gracious, collected and belied her tangible frustration that freshly arose whenever the land of her birth was mentioned, or crawled its way, uninvited, into her head.

They'd continuously told her that the old land was something to be embraced as her family had done before her, not to be forgotten amidst the modern trappings of all things new. That it was important never to forget where she had come from - on her paternal side that is.

If only I could.

But, it was the world of bright lights and the rhythm of the night which had been the actual home she had eventually embraced with enthusiasm, with all of its ugly contemporaries. In some ways they were more honest than the rigorous starch her father had worshipped.

Why do I even want Marc to understand?

She took one last look around the main dance floor aglow with vibrancy and then continued to head for the exit. Nodding in a polite acknowledgement at another familiar face, she avoided a conversation with a quick gesture for sleep and then skirted around the imploring bouncer to step out into the quieter night.

She left his parting query behind her with a quick wave and strident steps - his words, lost to her ears.

Instead, Liz reflected that it was in this world that she felt the closest to belonging, making people laugh and enjoying life - far away from her confined childhood. Here, she didn't need the use of her peered title to open doors or follow her around like a lead balloon.

Here, right here, was where you demanded your own respect - earned it.

She was thinking so deeply between snatches of fog that she realised she had completely forgotten her coat from the kiosk and correctly assumed that it had been what the last man had wanted her attention for.

The mundane item had completely slipped her mind in favour of more heated contemplations, but honestly, she couldn't have cared less about it. Tomorrow she might even treat herself to a round of Harrods and Harvey Nichols to ease the stress caused by her older brother.

Too bad I'm not perfect Marc, but I'm still not going back!

Liz was thinking of a suitable childish rebuttal and more acidic thoughts when she turned the corner of the building and moved away from the fashionable set on the street. Instead of joining the queue for a black cab, she turned further away from the busy night scene and started to walk in the direction of her London address.

Her steps were light and only tainted by the light click of her heels over the hard cement, but they quickened in pace as the bite of the night kissed her bare legs. It was autumn and not as mild as it had been on the previous evening. In the back of her mind she regretted the lack of a coat as she wrapped her arms around herself even as her feet carried her further away from the bright, busy heart of the party streets.

The intermittent breeze played with her loose tresses that hung just past her shoulders and the spangled golden hoops glinted at her ears in the murky streetlight.

No one was readily about as she came closer to her residential area. Of course, the exclusive postcode area was well lit, but extremely quiet. In fact, it was so very quiet that it might have been silenced by unnatural beings.

It was enough to rattle her staid nerves.

Liz walked the familiar route a little faster on the pretence of simply wanting to see the end of her awful day, an awful week entirely, but as she rounded one of the last corners to enter a side street that would take her directly onto her road - she found that it was all about to get much, much worse.

Her sight went black almost immediately as a black sack made of rough cloth was placed over her head, it caused her to stumble in surprise, but she was equally caught up by someone of immense strength as an arm clamped unmercifully about her waist.

It lifted her off the ground to be lugged like a sack of potatoes, but she gave her captor a surprise by firmly jabbing with her elbow into a hard solar plexus. A mere grunt met her efforts as she struggled like a wildcat in the firm hold, but it did little good.

Before a blow took her conscious thought she was sure she heard her brother's voice.

"My apologies little sister, but there is a contract to fulfill."


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"_to all things dreaded at home"_

She awoke to the vibration of her phone in the back pocket of her denim skirt, but it was nothing compared to the pounding ache at her temples. Whether it was from the unceremonious blow she had received from a ham-fisted moron, or the alcohol she had consumed, it was an unpleasant wake up call all the same.

However, despite the annoyance of being woken, it was the uncomfortable _buzz_ in her pocket which acted as an impatient reminder that she had received a text message from the land of the living. A land which she should surely join.

Lord only knew how long she had really been travelling the outer realms of unconsciousness in an induced oblivion, it was something that she put from her mind as the dull throb in her head delayed the opening of her eyes for a fraction of a second whilst the cotton-mouth syndrome she experienced made the point a little too obviously for her delicate sensibilities. If her suspicions were correct, it had been a while.

Admittedly, mysterious oblivion was a state she would have preferred in that moment as she lay face down upon a soft coverlet with the hum of animated birds beginning to make themselves known.

Happy, animated, twittering birds that joyously sang in the full onslaught of the late afternoon sunshine as its rays, together with the piercing sound, poured in through the glass of the room's patio doors.

_I always hated the dusk chorus_, she meanly snipped.

Her tired eyes finally opened to run across the docile pattern of the downy coverlet beneath her, covered in subdued florals she surprisingly didn't hate the traditional design as the sight struck a chord of remembrance within her. Leaving the perusal for another time and with a further, more delicate than normal, roll of her head she found herself gazing upon the same sight she had previously woken up to for sixteen years of her young life.

That same ghastly painting of a Devil Flower took precedence as it hung high on the opposite wall of her magnolia dominated room. It was depicted with surprising realism as it curled around a lone thicket of a blooming rose bush and, of course, that rose would be a _Livia._

Out of sheer spite for her lovely namesake, she'd bastardised her name a long time ago.

But despite any changes she had personally made, the painting was just as unsettling as it had been the first time she'd seen it and, unfortunately, it seemed that they had never removed the large oil depiction in the time she had been away. In fact, not much of _anything_ had changed at all.

Her old bedroom was still the perfect picture of moderate elegance.

Of course, as a fair soul she was forced to admit that the painting had one or two positive attributes, namely the portrayal of her namesake was a beautiful sight through the eyes of a matured adult. The darling buds of Livia bloomed in all their glory to produce lush, rolling rose heads which were coloured a true pink - understated, classical, and _restrained_.

But, she still thought it was an odd choice of decor for a child's room because growing from the base of the woody plant arose the green stems of the Devil Flower. It grew up and leaned heavily on the rose, curled up its unsuspecting host until it reached the very centre of the larger plant and then it bloomed in all its dark glory - a heavy, black flower head with bracteoles that splayed like dark whiskers.

It was an evil looking _thing_ that ruined the entire piece in her opinion.

Even its late buds looked foreboding as they remained forever unopened along the lower reaches of the painted plant. The seemingly weighty capsules were pulled downwards by gravity and took on the disturbing appearance of nocturnal creatures hanging from their roost.

As a child, the damn picture had given her more nightmares than she cared to recall.

She had staunchly demanded its removal for years in favour of anything else, never once had she asked where it came from, but she had most definitely wanted it gone all the same. In her efforts to remove the disturbing piece she had even removed it from the wall on several occasions herself - only to find it had been hung once more at her father's insistence.

He'd never explained its importance and she'd never confided her childish nightmares.

If looks had ever been able to ignite a blaze by sheer will power alone, the fine painting by an unknown artist would have been reduced to a paltry ash in seconds, but rather unfortunately, she had always lacked such potential and, regrettably, continued to do so in her current state. Instead of committing the impossible, her gaze was only able to narrow in distaste, examining the piece to reveal that the fine colours of the painting had never even thought to fade a little bit in the time she had been gone.

It was utterly fresh in the deepest depths of the dark, earthy colours displayed. Especially in the green of the devilled leaves as the make-believe light caught their surface.

Like everything else, the grand painting commissioned at her birth remained in time capsule whilst she had fled far away.

Why, it was all so attune to a memory that she half expected her harried nurse maid to rush in through the door and berate her for being so late in waking, but nothing unusual happened in the scant seconds that she allowed to tick by.

It was only the birds who continued to disturb the quiet as they sang the last of their melody in the dying light.

Rising to her elbows, the bed creaked slightly at the movement and she was able to see a little more of the predictable room from the added height.

In perfect Vandersteine tradition, a Wedgewood vase rested on top of a wooden dresser beneath the infamous painting and inside the fragile, but tasteful, clay sculpture lay one of the subjects from the depiction - pink roses, fresh and avidly beautiful.

Picked at the ripest shade of a full bloom they mirrored their oil counterparts with the silk of their petals providing a more tangible element to admire as they sat there in something akin to a shrine. She well remembered that there had never been any other type of flower to grace the counter top and never, _never,_ had she seen anything other then the loveliest blooms in place.

When despair swiftly assailed her, she sharply dropped her face back to the coverlet and restrained a scream of pure frustration which clamoured wildly to her throat. It raged strongly like a beast of some sort as her hair fell forward with the motion to inadvertently blot out the environment around her whilst she stared blindly at the floral print and then rhythmically clenched her small fists at the peppered sensation of melancholy.

The glass windows that framed picturesque views, the heavy doors that kept warring parties apart, the antique wood of the furniture that looked more collected than lived in, even the nostalgic smells of potpourri and wax polish - it ripped useless plasters off festering wounds.

This was the life of quaint grandeur that she had first run from as an adolescent and then did her best to hide from as an adult in light of her late father's request, because as much as it burned a hole in her heart to think of things left broken, it also filled her with a desire for something she wasn't prepared to admit as yet.

In a whirl of movement she twisted roughly upon the bed to roll onto her back and then expertly slid off the bed to stand beside it with her bare feet settling in the deep sheepskin rug. At the sharp rise, she was forced to place a hand on her head for balance as the soft pastel shades of the fabrics around her grinned with a vengeance as the late afternoon sun finally dispersed into the softer hues of orange and blue that would gradually give way to night fall.

She highly doubted that she would ever touch another drop of brandy again.

Releasing a breath she kept her eyes on the fading light and felt the text reminder go off once more. From her back pocket she retrieved the phone and was not at all surprised to read a message confirming her new whereabouts.

"_Welcome abroad - select the link below to discover more of our tariffs whilst you're on holiday with us!"_

Aggravated, she let out a self-depreciating laugh as she read the message. Of course, it was soon accompanied by a small smile which barely touched her lips.

"_Holiday_ indeed, brother of mine."

Casually locking the phone, as per habit, she threw a glare once more at the painting before she dropped the device onto the bed and then made her way to the bathroom.

There was nothing more she could do until she spoke with Marc and it was also likely that the aches of her body would benefit from a hot shower. If nothing else then it might help to cure the painful ache at her temples, or indeed, simply lessen it.

With a decision made, she stripped off her clothes and gathered them close to neatly deposit them by her bed.

Annoying though it may be, she was sure to find more clothes in the dressers, draws and cupboards of the wardrobes around her. It was quite easy to believe that her residence had been cleared out the moment she had left for the club. Nothing was beyond her brother and the evidence around her shortly revealed itself.

Once in the bathroom she quite conveniently sourced her own towel and favourite shampoo.

Marc was nothing if not thorough.

Sometime later, she sat with her elbows resting on the surface of a walnut dressing table in the soft light of her room. Clean faced with her damp hair brushed back and wrapped only in a large bath towel, she perched on a stool and regarded her glum reflection in the dresser mirror.

The skin beneath her baby blue eyes looked tired with a distinct tinge of purple despite her oblivious slumber. Elsewhere her skin appeared pale, almost too pale as the trials of old thoughts ate at her. There was clearly no doubt about it, she looked as unsettled as she felt, vulnerable even, but in the depths of her blue eyes there was also a spark of dark anger that energised her aura.

It fed her spirit with the raw ability to corral some of her more deviant emotions in order to more tightly leash them in readiness because she knew Marc would make an appearance soon and tears, although feminine, were a useless tool when bargaining with a male of the Vandersteine line.

Directly in tune with her thoughts, the bedroom door opened on a proprietary knock, but she held herself still and denied the need to turn in order to face the intruder. The sound of footsteps shortly followed and with eyes on her reflection, she then heard the door close gently on a soft click that heralded the start.

"Livia," came the voice of her only, older, brother. "I'm glad to see you've settled in nicely."

His words lacked any indication of remorse at her treatment, it sounded like she might of accepted an invitation to return home rather than have been forcibly hauled back. As always, it seemed like they would avoid talking about the lone elephant in the room.

The only conciliatory token was that his tone, at the very least, conveyed a sense of proprietorship over her well being - as if he was genuinely pleased that she had made use of the amenities.

Unfortunately, the small sign of his care would be overlooked in favour of examining his high-handed actions. Like a unpleasant taste that couldn't be easily washed away, she freshly recalled his note and the message it contained. Together with the present circumstance she found herself in, her brother's latest words only made it seem like he'd granted her a dear favour in forcibly bringing her to heel.

It set her blood alight, but little did she know it wasn't because he didn't care for her. In fact, her brother cared a great deal for his little sister and all that she would come to fulfill for the Vandersteine name.

Misdirected care, but it existed all the same.

With bubbling thoughts of anger tumbling about in her mind, she turned in her seat and truly appraised him. Her gaze searched for the reasons behind his sudden interest in her life after all of their years apart. It _had_ to be something of importance, they had co-inhabited the globe for a number of years without the need to press upon each other's company.

To the casual eye, Marc appeared unruffled and well rested whilst she was sporting a hangover and a faint bruise to the side of her head as a product of his all too responsible actions, but she did note with some satisfaction that he also looked ever so slightly nervous. It was betrayed by the way his gaze continued to dart over to the closed patio doors with peculiar regularity - something was bothering her staid brother.

In the early years of watching others at work, she had found that people, any people, hated a protracted silence, it made them admit to all kinds of things, so she proceeded to watch Marc without so much as an emotion flitting across her features. It gave her the opportunity to note the pronounced pallor of his skin which was much paler than even her own flesh.

The odd colour had been clear to her in London too, but she had presumed that he'd travelled badly and was simply angry to boot at the time. His hair was also darker than she remembered. It had never been like her own golden halo, but still, it was somehow darker…

"Livia?"

She forced her gaze back to his face and the well mannered enquiry.

"Livia? Did you hear a word I said to you?"

"_Livia_ most probably did, but as you know from that weaselling report you had made of me, I haven't responded to that name in thirteen long years," she tossed at him with an arrogant flick of her wrist turning back to the mirror. "My name is Liz-"

"Your name is Livia - not some trumped up _Americanism_," he all but barked at her.

The moment he betrayed his heightened emotions she refrained from another catty comment and turned back to him on an expectant pivot. As often as they were at loggerheads, it was difficult to get Marc to act with anything, but his righteous spiel. Apparently, her name was something that could push his cold buttons.

"Those _lost_ thirteen years are over," he ignored the curiosity in her eyes. "You are home now."

"How could I _ever_ forget Marc?"

Livia turned to the dresser in frustration and roughly opened a draw to retrieve a paddle brush for her hair. It was not her own sleek bamboo item, but a heavier piece that she held by the silver handle.

In the strained silence she busied herself with shutting the draw even though she could feel her brother's eyes boring a hole in her back, but he waited silently all the same for her round of insulting words.

"With your arrogant strut and forced air of debonair charm - it's like I _never_ left-"

"Watch your tongue," he interrupted.

"And watch _yours_," she said and raised her eyes to catch his own in the mirror as she pulled the brush through her hair on a long and sure stroke. "I have little to no idea what possessed you when you forced me here. I'm not twelve anymore."

"It is time you made peace with your duties rather than living as an _it girl_ all over the world-"

"I have no duties," she frostily cut him off directly.

The paddle brush was dropped to the dresser with a loud clatter as she came to hold her aching head in her hands. It hurt like the very devil as the throbbing intensified even more with the direction of their conversation.

Sitting with slumped shoulders, she refused to look up at him again, but concentrated on the oiled grain of the wooden surface of the small table before her instead, only then did she issue a long sigh that sounded suspiciously like defeat. It punctuated something of the hostile atmosphere between them

"Livia, I'm sorry for the," he paused as if searching for a word before he added, "_manner_ in which you've come home - I'm sure Greta has something for your head."

"It doesn't bloody matter, what's one more ache Marc?"

It was the voice of defeat which moved him more than anything else, the sudden lack of life that disturbed him most.

Thirteen years had been a very long time for him to keep the secret of their family from Livia, worse than the strain of maintaining a pretence it had damaged a fragile bond between them that had once been aglow with love and trust as perfect siblings often shared.

Instead, they had become isolated from one another whilst he had been charged with administering the mantle of responsibility that the House of Vandersteine demanded, because that's what he had been born to do. In his opinion, his sister needed to realise what she had been born to do too.

"Of course your well being matters to me, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to argue with you that day either and-"

"I _left_ Marc, as in not coming back," was all Livia said as she cut across his genuine apology.

There was a silence in which her brother walked over to the patio doors in order to view the darkened scene beyond. She heard his footsteps become hushed by the thick rug that lay before the doors, but she didn't look his way - she knew what he'd see.

The grounds around the large house were awash in shadows as night had fallen and already the moon was hanging high in the velvet sky. Clear, without the pollution of city lights, the uninterrupted view of all the stars in the sky would be breathtaking.

The land of their birth was beautiful - Hunter's Fall was beautiful.

"How can you say that with such finality?"

The light lace of the drapes that covered part of the doors brushed his clothing as he reached down to turn the key in the lock, very gently he then lowered the handle of one of the doors to open it. Without a creak, it swung open effortlessly and revealed the small terrace beyond that was hers alone.

"This is home, temperamental climate included," he said quietly.

But even as he said the words, his keen eyesight took in the visible perimeter as his thoughts drifted to another who would soon make his presence known. _Temperamental_ was the optimum word as there was an ever present worry in his chest as to how well his dear sister and that other force might clash on many things…

"It's not for everyone," she replied devoid of all emotion for the moment. "You didn't have to do this to me Marc."

"Half-siblings we may be, but I still have a responsibility towards you, to see you happy-"

"I own several restaurants and I have more shares in places than I can count."

"What of a home?"

"I have three houses in the best areas of London, not to mention my bar on Grenada that over looks the _azure_ seas," she pointedly turned her head to look at him. "Actually, you're looking a little pale Marc, perhaps you should visit."

"And how often are you at home, any home of yours?"

From glancing over at her brother, she turned back to hold her head in her hands once more as she became aware of the sinking feeling that was gradually taking hold of her body. She knew exactly where his words were leading as he continued on and on…

"Answer me Livia," he brother said again.

"I'm twenty-nine, not twelve Marc," she slowly replied losing the will to live.

Livia heard her brother approach to stand just behind her and then he slowly came to place his hands on either one of her bare shoulders in a brotherly gesture of support.

"Yes you are, and it's time you made our father happy, yourself too."

His hands, rather than the words were the first thing she noticed. They were so cold that it was almost painful to have them on her flesh. It was the oddest sensation, but his words were quick to soon capture all of her attention.

She said with little hesitation, "Father is dead Marc."

"Ah, but he watches and what of your happiness?"

When she looked more like a cold opponent than a loving sister, he added silently to himself, _There is so much more you don't know._

"I told your lawyer exactly what I thought of the conditions of the will," she said. "That hasn't changed."

"Is it really so unappealing?"

"The fact that you have to ask says a lot Marc-"

"It's really not so bad Livia, think of it as a chance to reclaim lost time - you know father would be proud of you for doing this."

"Making father proud was always your arena of expertise," she stated with arctic frigidity and then added, "I have no idea why father bothered with such _ridiculous_ terms in the will-"

"Because he wanted you to to be happy, is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," she threw forcibly at him. "If he was so damned concerned he might not have been such an-"

"Stop whilst your ahead," Marc interrupted her.

She glared mutinously at him, but refrained from calling her late father by anything she might later regret. Instead she opted for something prophetic in the hope she could sway him from keeping her at Hunter's Fall.

"A forced hand doesn't make for a happy reunion-"

"Livia, think of your mother - she'd want you to at least stay a while. It's been too long and you're here after all by hook or crook."

"Oh for goodness sake - _emotional blackmail?_"

Her eyes gleamed blue fire at him as she shrugged off his touch.

"You didn't exactly have the hardest time imaginable when you took over all that I inherited," she bit, annoyed that he had brought her mother into the fray.

"Ah, so you _do_ remember what you left behind?"

"You took it over and have glazed the profits, what more do you want?"

She placed the paddle brush back in the dresser draw from where it came from as she sized up her next question.

"Can't you leave it as is?"

"A question for a question my dear sister, how very unbecoming for a lady with such a high born path," he mysteriously replied. "The next few days are going to be very interesting for you I think."

"Why am I really here Marc?"

She turned to look at him on a heavy sigh, somewhat sick of the growing light of satisfaction in his eyes. The open patio door was also starting to bother her as the cold drew in.

"Promises," her brother replied whilst retreating to the door.

He seemed to have dismissed the matter even though they had failed to reach a spoken conclusion to recent events.

"Get dressed for, I have a few guests in this house of _yours,_" he flashed her a grin of very white teeth.

"Marc," she demanded in a voice that commanded attention. "I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me what is going on."

He stopped and turned with a hand resting on the bedroom door that would lead out into the corridor. A serious light dawned on his features as he regarded her suspicious veneer.

"Father died without his only daughter even grieving for him-"

"You know _nothing_," she bit with derision, hating the emotional blackmail he loved to employ. "That man was happy when I left for England."

"You never once came home Livia," he paused then added, "It spoke volumes for how you felt."

"You know nothing about my grief," she returned in a dangerously low voice.

"Never the less, you will carry out father's wishes."

"And what wishes are those?"

It had always been clear that Livia was bright, too bright in some instances and the natural trait didn't fail as she regarded him with the light of knowledge in her eyes. In fact, his suspected purpose in bringing her home lived like a demonic beast in the ever shrinking room around her.

"To _marry _of course," Marc replied on a turn as he saw the knowledge sink in. "As a Vandersteine you know a political alliance was always expected-"

"You're joking," Livia quietly breathed the words in shock at the very idea being given an actual voice. "You're not just pushing for me to _visit_, you're actually going to attempt to fulfill the conditions of that damned will."

It was as if all the air in her childhood bedroom had left to leave a breathless vacuum. In the chaotic tumble of emotions, her mind struggled to understand the serious tones her older brother utilised. Indeed, such a ludicrous idea had been a condition of her substantial inheritance, but just as when she had first understood the nature of such a request - she wanted no part in such a cold hearted arrangement.

On the other hand, her brother was entirely serious it would seem.

She eventually recovered from her speechless fright just before he left the room as she bit, "I'm old enough not to be bartered off like cattle!"

The lovely oak door was closing on her brother when she heard him say, "Oh, but I think you'll enjoy bartering _yourself_ Livia."

Fuming as the door clicked shut, she began to pull apart her wardrobe on a string of Londoner's curses.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

"_to the unwilling declaration of home"_

Having overly delayed her appearance, it was incredibly fortunate that Livia wasn't the type of woman to overly observe a mirror for an age in order to be confident of her allure. She quite typically didn't linger over her reflection for hours on end in anticipation of baring witness to a miracle.

That would _never_ do.

No, Livia Vandersteine was confident in the overall image she projected to the outside world.

Unlike most other women, she had completed her modelling tour from New York to Beijing and had subsequently taken in every cathouse for catwalk that had masqueraded as something worthy of her time. For three years she had been signed to a revered agency in order to parade the various lanes in lace and leather during all manner of shows and there wasn't a female alive that could better attest to the raw tricks of the trade that such an experience had unwillingly gifted her with.

Of course, the best kept secret was often the mundane truth of simplicity, and always bearing it in mind, Livia had certainly always made the most of what fate had graciously gifted her with, whenever the occasion called for it.

That particular knowledge was most assuredly on the cards for the evening as she dressed with spite in mind, or more precisely, to the tune most out of key with her brother's wishes. Not only was she bound to be late as a result of seeking a _nap_ before her anticipated arrival, but it would undoubtedly annoy the upper echelons to be outfitted in one of her shortest little black dresses - the clinging overlay of chiffon was merely an added bonus.

With her tresses casually clipped away from her face, whilst other locks carefully camouflaged an unbecoming bruise to one side, the trademark glow of subtle gold glinted in Livia's ears as she allowed her bedroom door to close softly behind her.

Stood just beyond the entrance to her private domain, she halted before venturing forward with a hand lingering on the cold brass door handle as she absorbed the sound of conversation drifting up from the foyer downstairs.

Livia remained as still as a statue at the sound of polite voices joined in a throng and waited for the genteel commotion to become more distant as it drifted further away, likely into one of the main rooms of the house before she considered making her next move. When she was at least partially satisfied that the sound had indeed become muffled as it moved further away, Livia walked across the landing towards the wide marble balustrade and peered curiously over it.

Quite obviously there was nothing of interest to see from that limited position, but she carried out the small task anyway as if to prolong her inevitable descent down the long flight of stairs.

One by one, she eventually took practised steps down the wide staircase that dominated the foyer of the large house. When her stylish stilettos touched the level of the ground floor she felt a draft whistle over her bare legs and, unerringly, Livia knew that it originated from the large room where her brother's company had assembled.

The doors onto the wide veranda were likely wide open.

With an air only achieved by someone in full control of their faculties, Livia spared a last minute glance at a hallway mirror before gently teasing a further tendril or two from her partially restrained hair in order to more provocatively frame her deep red pout. Combined with the simple, but tantalising outfit, she well and truly appeared as if she had just been released from an ardent lover's embrace.

Unfettered.

Somewhat unruly.

Whilst the image had been deliberately contrived to solely irritate her brother, the look of an unrestrained wild child would both infuriate and entice the man that they _all _sort to so cautiously curry favour with.

Blissfully ignorant for the time being, Livia finished the minor alterations to her hair and then took a few more steps to walk beneath the high archway of a rather stately room, its grand dimensions were impressive, if a little overdone, but it suited the type of proud family tradition the Vandersteine name was known for.

Having passed through the entrance it wasn't long before a ripple of unseen awareness travelled through the assembled company. In a hushed murmur, it moved like a wave of communication across a hive of busy bees as the news of her arrival spread.

Oddly, silence did not descend, but they were all uncommonly attuned to her presence.

Sensing her behind him, Marc turned from a quaint woman he had been speaking to in order to address her, "So you have decided to finally grace us with your presence-"

"I hardly thought you worth it considering our last conversation," Livia succinctly interrupted her brother's words. "I needed a catnap anyway, but _honestly_ - what's an attempted bludgeoning between siblings, right?"

Pleasant and yet, it was filled with a superbly caustic flavour for the darkest of humour - she gave no thought to the widened eyes of the woman who stood beside Marc.

"I _am_ a charitable soul after all," Livia added on a strident step forward to intercept a young gentleman who carried props which she badly needed.

From the waiter holding a gleaming tray of filled flutes, she casually reached out with a honeyed smile of thanks and took one for herself. The delicate glass was cool beneath her fingertips and, with devilled lips, she took a very feminine sip of the golden champagne before then eyeing her brother over the rim with a look of mock surprise.

"Dom Pérignon," she paused for effect, "You _shouldn't _have just for me - if I had known, I would have been down much sooner Marc."

To a casual observer there was no flaw visible in her armoured front, but those more observant might have noticed the tight grip she maintained on the stem of her flute, because for all of her blasé sentiment, Livia had become keenly aware of the undercurrents that swirled in the room.

Not surprisingly, they exacerbated the tension that she already felt at the prospect of confronting her brother once more. But even with that said, it amounted to much more than just facing the pragmatic stress of dealing with her misguided sibling, certainly more than ignoring the surreptitious attentions of the other refined people present - rather, it was all to do with the persistent tug on her subconscious.

An entirely new sensation.

Even if Livia couldn't yet describe its source with any degree of accuracy, she wouldn't have known who to tell of the experience. Strange, disconcerting, and somewhat daunting as it loomed on the edge of her sphere, it was the first time that she had come to unknowingly feel the pull of the shadow that was an intrinsic part of their leader.

Something that recognised a form dwelling within her own.

Of course, Livia never allowed anything but smooth indifference to mar her pleasant features as she broadly brushed a cursory eye over the room. It was sophisticated gathering after all as the fire in the large grate burned merrily to one corner and the heat given off by the flames contrasted nicely with the cooler air allowed in by the large veranda doors.

Unhindered, the wide exit lead out towards perfectly manicured gardens that would be lit with pretty lights from neat hedges, just visible out in the darkness if one looked in that direction, but for the present moments she hardly took stock of anything beyond her brother.

Unwisely, Livia failed to note the man who stood as a silent observer near one of those doors.

In her exalted opinion, she had seen it all before, the room was no different to when she'd last met Marc's type of preferred acquaintance years before. They had not been her idea of company to begin with, not the sort to turn to in a time of need and what other type of friendship was worth the while?

Instead of the room and its supposedly less important inhabitants, Livia was far more interested in the little piece who smiled so prettily from beside her pious brother. She knew quite well that the saint had certainly not married, so was he _actually _living in sin?

_Hypocrite_, she mentally atoned with an undisguised glare that was quickly concealed beneath the sweep of her lashes.

Marc had certainly had his say upon scratching through the deliberately deep veneer of her life and he had damned her for what he found. In Livia's mind it was only fair that she should have the opportunity to judge his character, and by the scene before her, it seemed the right time.

Anything to move the attention away from her own emotional shortcomings.

With a deliberately casual glance, Livia dismissed the other woman in her lengthy drape of virginal white before she targeted her brother with the pronouncement of a thoughtful sound.

"_H'm._"

By the look that dawned on his face it was clear that her tone was most unwelcome, for good reason too.

"I see fresh pastures are your specialty Marc, so remarkably fresh too."

There was an evil light in her eyes as she met his own, the meaning in them was quite clear as a fine eyebrow arched to highlight her point. Her brother's playmate looked substantially younger than his own matured years - if she had been more charitable, she would have complimented him that he was too fine a specimen to resort to cradle snatching.

"Livia," he said in warning, but it failed to upset her motives.

"Doesn't sainthood require chastity?"

"Would you behave for _one _damn moment-"

"I don't think this one will like poverty, but I'm sure obedience has been displayed in a fine form, but I have to ask the important question," she paused, "is _she _the new Lady Vandersteine to be?"

The other woman bit her, pink, lower lip after sending a furtive glance towards Marc.

Missed by the brother, it was not by his eagle eyed sister.

From the deep inhale Marc took, Livia was positive her barbs had struck an unprecedented mark and the delay in answering such a simple question was telling in its own right. It seemed that there were new facets to her brother after all, buttons that proved he was human, it was only a pity that she had to go to such lengths in order to see them realised.

Trailing such a revelation was the unkind thoughts she had for the petite mouse that still stood next to the object of her torment. She didn't like the way the little limpet had clung to Marc, kept silent at the words thrown about. If their positions had been reversed then there was no possibility that Livia might have remained as silent.

_No backbone, or doesn't she care?_

It was just like her brother to have found a loveless gold-digger with as much passion as a wet rag, but really what was so very bad with that image? In exchange for her body, he would give her a title and money - business transactions occurred with less fair terms, but it didn't stop a pang of pity resounding in her chest.

_It's depressing, that's what's wrong with it_, she chided her objectivity.

When Livia realised the two merely stood and watched her in preparation of the next barrage of words, she had decided that enough was enough for one night. The sooner she smiled and played nice, then the sooner she would be able to escape after all.

"Perhaps we should leave _all _talk of marriages to those better suited than you and I, eh?"

From the glint in her brother's eye, Livia was positive that Marc had found the double meaning behind her more subtle, measured words that granted a reprieve, but contained enough of a sting in their tail to hammer her preference home. In fact, more than her intended audience had picked up on the sentiment - the tall figure by the veranda doors had certainly heard them and understood her current position all the better for it.

Whether the darling in elegant white understood the double edged meaning to the words remained unknown because little changed in her expression for the moment. Aside from the once furtive glance she spared Marc, nothing but cultured measure had painted her good looks.

She was just the right height for a man to hold, not too tall nor too short, without the need to consider the effect of four inch heels. Exquisitely polished, Livia recognised a fellow beauty, but they differed in the cultivation of their lures - she had long since shunned the graces of her birthright.

This one didn't.

Interestingly enough for her obvious position with Marc, the marks of pride were still there to be seen in the way she held herself, right down to the pearls around her neck. Simple, less ornate than the gold Livia favoured, it was a simple piece of jewellery which formed a necklace composed of three strands of natural pearls that looked vaguely familiar.

However, intent on the perusal of the woman's character she dismissed the adornment as a secondary thought and instead watched the woman's facial features as she stood there in apparent innocence.

_Smiling like an ornament someone might buy for amusement sake,_ Livia thought with disgust.

They all would be very much surprised if they expected her to transform into the empty headed swan before them.

There were cliffs that would seem more appealing to be thrown from.

"As ever, your thoughts on the matter will be taken into account," Marc broke the direction of Livia's thoughts with his words.

"_As always_, though hopefully we can still find something else to discuss," she deliberately turned her head left and right to gaze around the room of people, "I can see not much has changed."

"_Plenty_ has changed Livia," Marc said with an unmistakable edge that begged to be questioned.

Doggedly, Livia ignored the opening to ask more about the supposed changes that had gripped her home. It was an olive branch as far as her brother was concerned, she knew it, but ignored it in favour of small talk that only mildly bordered on the inane.

"It's at least autumn and that was always my favourite time of year, despite the chill in the air - wasn't it Marc?"

Her brother said nothing this time in response to her latest comment and she couldn't be sure whether the latter statement had been taken with an edge of intent or not - even small talk seemed out of reach between them.

Without waiting for him to add anything further, or bothering to pay attention to his limpet, she downed the rest of the champagne in a smooth motion that did little to quench the small restless fire burning in the pit of her stomach, but a mocking salute with the empty flute at least brought a little smile to her lips.

_And only this morning I swore not to touch another drop._

Livia wryly lost herself in the last minute thought before she pivoted directly upon her sharp heel and deposited her glass on the tray of a passing waiter. With a smile she also stopped him and shared confidential words that had him nodding in affirmation before he sped away.

The cabinet in her father's study would provide a source of far better sustenance for the night to come. At least, that's what she thought as she pretended to take a valid interest in the old books that lined one of the walls, all but ignoring the look sent her way.

Two whiskey tumblers later and not a single soul out the fifteen or so gathered had dared to talk to her. Not one, but the smiling female that is. It was as if the rest were too afraid or guarded in their actions around her. She had barely known most most of them in her proceeding years, but noticed the odd behaviour all the same.

_Perhaps I am tainted_.

The melancholy thought drifted to the front of her thoughts, its sting a fresh reminder that her place wasn't amongst the social elite of her family's class. It was more attuned to the honest, less complicated world she'd been taken from.

Of course, Livia would have left the soirée.

Walked right out.

Retired to the solace of her room where it was safe, where she could have reconnected with the outside world with a single phone call, but her brother had remained strategically positioned by the door to the hallway and her freedom. Irritatingly, it was if he could read her mind and knew exactly what her thought process was.

Escape.

Marc was unlike and yet, alike their father in many ways - forever following the course to make things '_right'_. The fumes of his machinations had all but drowned her simple outlook.

It was not a bad practice exactly, but one that fed her anger in molten bursts when his crude and judgemental ways where made apparent from the way he expressed his thoughts and opinions. For her, the practice was poor, inflexible and most of the time it was solely aligned to a man's purpose.

It had never passed her by that Marc had not been the one forced to marry in order to inherit _his _share of wealth.

He was free to live with whomever he chose, to do whatever he chose, where she was not. As Livia often did, she gave thanks that Lady Luck had always been kind to her - giving her the means to break away from the mould. It was a horror that sometimes claimed her sleep to think of where she might have been otherwise.

As if sensing his sister's distress, Marc looked up from his circle of bleak acquaintances and across the room towards Livia in order to meet her gaze. There was a wealth of knowledge in his eyes that she couldn't be sure hadn't always been there.

_As if he could read my mind_, she thought wryly to herself.

Unable to remain under his focused stare that became further tinged with hints best not contemplated, she dropped her eyes to the crystal in her hands on a smothered sigh. He may be an idiot, but she supposed he was still her brother who cared in some form for her well being.

All the same, an escape would have been marvellous for Livia.

The only other option available to her was an unconventional route that she was not prepared to follow just yet. Whilst the veranda doors would give her a clear exit, avoiding her brother, there was much to be said for an inexplicable deterrent that kept her away for now.

With uncanny hindsight, Livia was sure that the source of the earlier undercurrents were specifically lingering in that general vicinity, so much so that her instinct didn't like it one bit. In fact, she was more prepared to put up with her brother's little piece of entertainment for a while longer than venture any closer.

Unfortunately, whilst Livia may have found the mechanism to lengthen her time without mishap, not even the faint buzz of alcohol eased her boredom as the paltry notes of a mostly one-sided conversation fell around her. It also never occurred to her that her secondary role in the game of words would lend surprising confidence to her companion.

Livia had been content to interject appropriately at the correct pauses with a non-committal sound, but that had been well and truly before the light conversation had started to take a turn down a very dangerous line of enquiry. It was true that there were some matters best left alone, that she would have fiercely resented her brother raising them in _any _conversation - never mind having the deed committed by the woman in front of her.

It raised metaphorical hackles along her spine as soon as the first words were uttered.

"When you left, it was all very _difficult_ for your brother," her companion said on a small smile as if they shared the truth. "It was hard for him to be left alone in order to deal with your father's unhappiness."

A pale, elegant, hand was slowly raised as she rested it demurely against her breast bone in a physical display of empathy for the memory of her brother's supposed struggle. Not a single adornment covered her wrist or fingers.

"Marc felt as though the blame for the matter could be placed squarely upon his shoulders," she added. "You're father seemed to think he could have kept you here, might have tried harder to win your mother to his side rather than your own."

Livia did not say a word, but the glacial frost had started to descend all around her as she stood as still as a statue. Not that her companion noticed as she continued to embark on crumbling ground.

"That's when we found each other you know, I was there to help him slightly-"

"And you repaired the hole in my father's heart too I suppose?"

"I could never step into your shoes Livia," replied her counterpart a little too sweetly.

It was as if the youngest Vandersteine would not be worth imitating - a thinly veiled insult if ever she heard one.

"Why would that be?"

With narrowed eyes Livia turned her head to the side and regarded the little piece that was starting to get on more than just her sensitive nerves. It couldn't have escaped her companion's notice how softly worded the query truly was.

"Because they would be far too painful for me of course," came the reply.

_Well, the charming piece of baggage has teeth_, Livia thought to herself. _How delightful._

She watched as her companion even gestured towards the Jimmy Choo's that stylishly encased the soles of Livia's feet. It should have amused her really, to have the quaint darling attempt her luck at domination, but another critique of her character was not to be born.

Of course, whether the other woman had quite meant to throw down such a gauntlet of dominance or not, Livia would not allow the challenge to remain unanswered. Definitely not in her childhood home, even on a visit under forced circumstances.

In tones coated with a bitter chill Livia said, "Not everyone is strong enough to be suited to a life of distinction, no?"

"_Quite _- if you could call it that."

It was a short, clipped response that echoed with dismissal for the topic at hand. It seemed her companion didn't like it when real fangs were bared in response to her paltry teeth, but unfortunately for her wishes, Livia was not through.

"Tell me, where are _your_ family grounds?"

The other woman immediately turned a shade pink just as Livia had intended.

_No money_, she thought and the acid was corrosive.

"I have an apartment I keep in the city," she offered with some pride.

"_Really?_"

Livia drained the glass she held and then gave it to a passing waiter, but declined his offer of another.

"How," she paused with a condescending edge to be especially spiteful, "_appropriate._ Tell me more, it must be such a long drive back for you-"

"Oh, I don't live there..."

Livia took note of the sudden shift in the woman's stance as the words trailed off and she nervously brushed a lock of her dark hair back behind the shell of her ear. It flagged further warnings of deception when she also dipped her head slightly, as if to regain her inner balance in the face of an unexpected question.

In fact, from the dramatic change in her demeanor, from dominant to submissive, wary even, Livia was sure she had just received a slice of information that she was not supposed to possess. There was no choice other than to push on despite the sense of foreboding she could feel begin to build in the pit of her stomach.

"You don't live there?"

"Addresses are hardly important-"

"Answer me," Livia cut directly. "Where do you live if not in the city?"

Her companion lifted her head to meet her gaze head on as she was forced to announce, "I have rooms in the east wing."

"You have my mother's apartments?"

Her companion uncommonly cleared her throat and glanced to the floor.

"My _mother's _apartments?"

At the repeated question, starkly worded, the other woman's gaze rose uncomfortably to meet Livia's as she nodded mutely. It was written across her face, something like sudden fear for what she had revealed in error - what it could do to her other half's plans.

"Liar," immediately responded Livia without a care for anyone who overheard. "You're lying to me - he wouldn't _dare_ touch my mother's rooms."

At the branded accusation a fleeting look of anger possessed the other woman's features. It stayed for an instant before transforming into something else, the fear of reprisal having sunk beneath the weight of her pride.

On the periphery on her senses, Livia could feel her brother move towards them in order to intercede, but at the single look of satisfaction from the other woman she felt the blood drain from her face. It was clear, the little piece might just have spoken the truth. Not another occurrence registered in Livia's mind at the sight, not even the deathly silence that had descended in the room around them.

It was that look of victory that grew to wreathe her companion's face which truly scattered her thoughts to the wind.

"I have been the Mistress of Hunter's Fall for some years now," the swan declared and raised her chin ever so higher.

The action caused the strands of simple pearls at her throat to catch the light thrown by the ornate brackets of the room and the sight of them, rather than the crowing words, triggered an old memory for Livia. It was a hazy collection of scenes from her childhood which were slow to solidify.

The memories of her blood mother came distinctly, if in short bursts. Of the many nights she had been safely squired away to bed in a practiced ritual, the last lines from a cherished book of fairy tales read, but clear as day she recalled most strongly how beautiful her mother had often looked - dressed for another engagement with her father.

Around her neck had resided the very same adornment of elegant pearls.

At the pale complexion Livia presented, the other woman took her chance to cement her authority with words imbued with confidence. The beguiling tilt of her head was a poor reflection of any good intention.

"If you have need of anything whilst you are staying with us-"

Unfortunately, or fortunately enough, she was not allowed the opportunity to complete the sentence as Livia took a step closer and then sank her fingers between the strands of pearl and the woman's vulnerable neck, she pulled harshly in one swift action that broke the clasp.

The jewellery easily came away in her hand as she held it up between them.

"The day you are Mistress of Hunter's Fall will be a very cold day in _Hell_," Livia snarled with a hot look in her eye that contradicted her arctic tones.

"This is outrageous!"

Her companion shrieked the denial and protectively clutched a hand around her throat as she stared at Livia as if she was possessed. Indeed, the expression on her face shifted to something unnatural for a fleeting moment.

"You're digging in the wrong place for gold," she bit nastily.

"Don't use that tone with me-"

"My mother's items are not his to give, _neither _is this house!"

"Livia-"

"Yes," she ground out. "That is my name, the _Lady_ Livia Marie Vandersteine, and you would do well to remember that because if you don't curb your tongue and remove yourself from my mother's apartments then I'll do it for you!"

"Livia," softly called her brother at the end of her heated tirade.

He came to stand near the two women, one convincingly cowed as if the other might strike out in anger. There was no mistaking the look of heightened venom that coated his sister's facade - especially when she unusually stressed her heightened station.

With a savage look at her brother Livia said, "Next time you should give them a fixed asset statement before deceiving them so Marc."

She turned to the woman before her and ordered, "Get _out_ of my sight."

At the words her companion huffed in a small measure of rebellion, but walked with as much dignity as possible away from Livia to stand behind her frowning brother. It didn't escape her notice how she clung like something of a limpet once more.

"Come, we can go to the study to talk," Marc offered with an imploring hand.

It was a rare display from her brother and she was sure it was because of the hot tears which gathered in her eyes, but she didn't answer him. Instead, she looked down at the costly pearls in her hand.

There wasn't a single item of her mother's jewellery that Livia possessed as a keepsake for herself, as a reminder if nothing else. Everything had all been tied up with her father's last stipulation. Nothing of her mother's personal possessions were Livia's to remember her by - it tore something of hole through her chest.

She allowed the pearls to fall from her nerveless fingertips to the carpet on a dull thud.

Without a backward glance she headed towards the closest exit and forgot all about her earlier instinctual warning as she passed a tall stranger at the veranda threshold. With her head down, Livia didn't stop her controlled flight at her brother's call, if anything it fuelled her resolved to greater lengths as she briskly walked straight out into the frigid night air.

With thoughts clouded by her anger, Livia paid little attention as she disappeared in the direction of the gardens to be alone with her choking emotions.

Of course, the silence left behind in the stately room was tangible.

Finally, the stranger walked into the centre of the room, away from his previously obscure position, and placed his own crystal tumbler on a waiter's tray. All eyes present tracked his progress as he turned on a long exhale to view the open doors Livia had departed through.

"Celia must be moved Marc," he said in tones that were polite, but not to be ignored.

"Done," was the immediate response. "Would you like me to fetch her back?"

Without answering, he looked in the direction of the troublesome Celia and said, "Once is more than enough, I don't want to hear you've made the same mistake twice."

She nodded her dark head in apparent agreement without a word and then submissively lowered her eyes in a mark of true respect. At the sight, he seemed satisfied enough and then turned back to the view offered by the open doors.

In the unnatural stillness of the room, he waited for the next round of words to begin before he acted.

"Shall I-"

"Take care of matters as I have asked," succinctly stated the tall stranger. "I will deal with the rest."

He did not wait for further questions, but followed Livia's exact path out of the room and into the darkness of the cold night.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"_to the sultry joy of water over skin"_

_My mother's rooms!_

Unpleasant emotions rolled through her entire being as she stalked down the path, brushing too close to a trimmed border on one side as she veered left, but thought nothing of the sharp twigs in particular. Livia's mind was on other matters.

_If he wasn't my brother I'd choke him to death_, she thought in disgust.

Plentiful thoughts of anger coupled with hurtful reminders as they tumbled over themselves to vie for her attention. They were so very distracting that she didn't notice the growing darkness which gradually enclosed her lithe figure. It was only the soft lights at either side of the garden's walkway which lit her rambling path.

_How could he do such a thing?_

Despite the cold and the darkness of the night, the dislike of her brother's actions was tangible. It didn't seem to matter that she was out alone, sure to freeze to death when the anger eventually dimmed - _primarily_, Marc had erred.

Of course, Livia's mother had never been his blood relation exactly, just in name when she had come to marry a wealthy widower with a child, but that was far from the point in her opinion. Catherine Bradán had treated Marc as if he was the son she had never had, and that alone was worth sacredly preserving her memory.

_Not placing his two-bit whore in her rooms!_

Deep down Livia might have known it was an unreasonable line of thought, logically she had no right to dictate what Marc did in her willing absence from Hunter's Fall, _he_ had been the keeper of it since their parent's death. It was his domain, even if it legally belonged to her as a form of wretched dowry.

Furthermore, a room was a room, no matter who the past inhabitants were, but still - it had hurt to hear of the change from a complete stranger. One who had seemed determined to stake her claim as the sole proprietress of Hunter's Fall. It seemed ironic considering that it was a title Livia would have gladly given away in any other circumstance, _any_, but those surrounding her mother.

It was true enough that the ghost of Catherine Bradán was certainly not going to make practical use of her old rooms anytime soon, but time passed differently for Livia's fresh eyes and venting part of her spleen had at least given her a focus for her present discontent.

Deep down, she was likely more angry at herself rather than her brother's apparent duplicity.

At the self depreciating thought Livia exhaled woodenly with her arms folded beneath her breasts as she then cast her eyes up to encompass the wide night sky above her head. With feet firmly planted under her, the sky was a rich velvet, a dark black in its intensity that appeared to be studded with twinkling diamonds in the cloudless, crisp air.

Indeed, Livia had arguably been a certified coward that morning as she had traversed no where near the precious rooms her mother had once kept. No where near them, or their ingrained memories, even though she had spent an entirely restless day doing very little. It certainly wasn't because she was afraid of them, or was it?

_I am not_, she thought adamantly.

But, the memory of her comforting mother was bittersweet all the same. It struck a painful note right down in the depths of her soul when she recalled the petite woman with laughing blue eyes and titian hair who had always sought to steer her with measured words of wisdom - neither too strong, nor too weak.

In the pitiful time of her adolescent despair, it had been her soft hearted mother who had helped her to take the leap abroad, to unfurl her wings and simply fly. It had been a move that surprised them all, but one that had been remembered for many years.

When the news of her parent's death had eventually been broken to a much younger Livia, via a very formal letter from her brother's lawyer, she had been beside herself with grief. Like a physical blow she had felt the loss. It had taken days for her few friends to find her and drag her back to the living, or as close to it as her stubborn nature would allow.

It all seemed a little strange to them, the depth of her grief for people she had never spoken of, but what they failed to realise was what it all meant. Deep in her psyche the events had rung louder than any other, fatally so. With the ultimate death of her parents, there had been no hope left that Livia might one day reconcile with her predominantly estranged family.

Indeed, many things had died that day, but in the end she had still refused to return home even when her father's will had stipulated marriage in exchange for her mother's pearls.

Its cold words had matched a dark day in London when Livia had thrown her small, but self made fortune into an apparently reckless venture. Angered anew at the words which had managed to reach beyond the grave to wrap around her battered heart, she hadn't particularly cared what had happened to the amount she had brazenly gambled with, much to the horror of her close friends.

As far as she had been concerned, a disaster was a disaster and she would forever remain one in her father's eyes for all eternity because there was no force on earth that would of made her abide by his last will and testomony.

After all, whilst leaving had been her decision to end his immediate disappointment - what she did thereafter was even less of his concern.

That rebellious theory had been made fact upon his death.

Still, a theory was all well and good, but inevitably Livia remained unresolved during her unexpected visit. Whilst she had carried a hot conviction for years, she had stubbornly refused to venture into any parts of the huge house that might have evoked long held memories of striving to fulfill her a parent's ideals. Of then accepting the comfort offered by another when she failed, one who could explain it all away, who acted as the glue to keep tidings peaceable between father and daughter.

"Not much chance of any memories assailing me now," she gruffly stated into the dark night high above her head.

Not now that she understood her brother had let _that_ woman reside in her mother's, undoubtedly, redecorated rooms. They'd likely have stripped it of all the soft greens and blues to be replaced with magnolia of all things.

Something safe, something non-descript that couldn't harm anyone's ideals - much like the yards of virginal white she'd seen earlier. It grinded only a little less to consider how many years had passed in actuality.

With a shiver, Livia paused in her thoughts and simply sighed heavily into the night air. It frosted before her like a soft mist on an early morning as it briefly lingered to keep her company and then disappeared into nothing.

_Damn it's cold._

Now that her anger started to fade, the night was making itself known and whilst she'd never inherited her mother's fiery hue of flaming red hair, it seemed no secret that Livia Vandersteine possessed a temper to match when it suited her.

_Hot-tempered_ was how she had once been described by a photographer.

She became amused at the reminder and how her mother had often scolded her for jumping first and thinking last. It was obvious the reminders had done little good considering her current predicament, but she wasn't about to regret the manner in which she had made an exit.

_It was deserved_, Livia reminisced silently to herself and then began to walk again.

The cold night air began to douse her ire more forcefully as her eyes wandered over the neat hedges with their uninviting shadows as she ventured further away from house. In her haste to walk off the chill, she never did turn back towards the veranda doors in order to glance at the silhouette of a man who emerged.

Instead, she came to a begrudging agreement with her more objective self that someone had to have taken over her mother's rooms eventually. Not surprisingly, it wasn't as easy to accept such a thing as it was to negotiate the cobbled pathway in the high heels she wore.

_If you can walk in Milan, you can walk anywhere_, she thought proudly to herself.

Typically, the cobbled walkways of her childhood home were part of majestic gardens that were a tragically neat affair in Livia's opinion - there was nothing of the varying borders that she kept in one of her own back gardens. No overlay of different plants to create height or any variant of evergreens to create something diversely pleasing to the eye.

It was all _very _ordered.

The paths were generously wide enough for two to walk abreast and they were also very precisely lined by short clipped box hedges that grew in a healthy abundance where directed. In the wane light they were a darkened colour, but she could easily recall their usual verdant green from past memories.

Many memories of escaping her cozy bed in the morning hours to trek across the frost covered lawn, leaving little footprints in haphazard patterns, and eventually, following her forbidden shortcut to arrive at the cross section of the walkway. One turn followed a more narrow route to an enclosed stone bench whilst the other carried on to a small summer house.

Livia took the latter lane and walked onwards right to the end of the path until she reached the entrance to a small thatched bungalow. The small summer house was enclosed in a thick ring of prickly holly that allowed a way in only through one large, ornate, scrolled, iron gate.

Standing before those very gates, she reached out to snake her arms around the bars and then rested her forehead against the cold metal. Unfortunately, the frigidity of the iron's touch did nothing to slow the tide of memories for the child within her.

It was an odd building, rather out of place amongst the grandeur of Hunter's Fall, but there was no other way to describe it apart from declaring the building a true folly. A life size replica of an idyllic home she had never personally seen, but one that her mother might have once lived in.

Originating from distant shores, Livia's mother had only ever met her father by fated chance, but meet they did.

Despite the seldom public displays of affection between the two, Catherine Bradán had been denied very little from what Livia had known. The only sense of sadness she had ever recalled was in her mother's tales of an emerald isle, in the fond recollection of people she had once known.

Several times, Livia had recalled her mother's wish to return home, merely to visit, but the idea had always been masterfully set aside by other events.

Instead of bowing, Livia's father had denied the desire, but he had also created a costly keepsake for his second wife down in the secluded grounds where no one had a call to venture. It was a compromise that both of her parents had recognised.

Peace, unlike many things had been secured in the small dwelling that seemed to appease her mother.

Protected by the holly, the ground level building was neither too big nor too small. It had always been just enough to remain her childhood sanctuary during the daylight hours when it had only ever been mother and daughter to gather there.

The charming water reed thatch had faded to a dull grey, but it still maintained a water tight seal against the harsh winter climate. Of course, the sturdy red bricks of the wall did their best to preserve the structure too, but even more appealing, they helped to give the impression of a warm glow despite the bite of the night.

Together with the small cottage windows it was still a building full of quiet appeal.

Additionally, the garden surrounding the dwelling was nothing like the ordered rows that abounded in Hunter's Fall, no - the pint sized lawn looked lush underfoot and the beds remained full of different kinds of plants.

It was probably still gorgeous on a summers day.

Livia felt the first genuine smile break over her face as the illuminated pool caught her eye next. Small though it was, it had been her mother's favourite sight too. Rather than spend time in the lavishly appointed residence, Catherine Bradán could often be found outside in the late evening.

Her favourite activity, much to her husband's disapproval, had been to take a swim in the refreshing valley air. Incidentally, Livia's father had always protested that the cold night air would do more harm than good, but her mother had equally insisted in her own calm way that her Irish blood was likely far better suited to the task than his own native stock.

For whatever reason, he'd been unable to resist.

On a firm grasp, Livia pushed the gate open and it swung wide on well oiled hinges. Much to her surprise, there wasn't the slightest creak to the action as she walked through the entrance and allowed the heavy weight of the gate to fall behind her.

It landed back in place with a resounding _clang_.

Her shoes carried her across flat stepping stones positioned within the lawn and onwards to the pool. Only once or twice did she very nearly lose her footing, but on the whole they beat out a slick rhythm as she unerringly dismissed the front door of the building to glide past it.

Intuitively, Livia knew the door would be locked without attempting the handle because the custodian of her home was her ever responsible brother. Nothing for him was left to spontaneity or chance, but then again he couldn't spoil all of her fun.

Marc certainly wasn't there to intercede as the heated pool beckoned.

The phosphorescent blue illumination of the water called to Livia even as her head warned against the venture. The warning grew as she stepped out of her shoes to feel a mild shudder run from the tips of her toes to the top of her head as her bare feet touched the cold stone that lined the edges of the pool. But, even though the tight shiver told her exactly what was to come, it didn't dissuade her entirely - not even when she thought of the little problem of getting from the pool to her own suite of rooms in the chilly evening air.

Reflectively lacking a towel and a swim suit, Livia did contemplate returning to the house for a flash of an instant, but the thought of entertaining any more clumsy attempts at family affection outweighed the negativity of a chill - she was her late mother's own flesh and blood after all.

Undeniably it really was more of an added incentive to pursue a swim rather than endure _any_ further company for the time being - silence was a golden charm as the quiet night soothed the frayed edges of her soul.

With more pleasant thoughts demanding her attention, Livia never noticed the dark figure just on the fringe of her sight. Her mind was beginning to enjoy the solitude in a break from all matters stressful as she padded closer to the water's edge and slowly skimmed her toes across the surface of the warmed water.

_Why are mortals so difficult?_

The shadow on the edge of the illuminated area took in the woman's actions with considerable derision. His mental thoughts were far from pleasant, more irritated than soothed from the unnecessary walk out into the cold night.

_Their aims are short-term, heedless, so often they fail to see the repercussions of their own selfish actions._

Unimpressed, he finally stood silently to watch her as his inner demon began that restless, unfamiliar pacing. It had been a part of him since his own particular time of stasis, a strong demon that he had, so far, shared a successful relationship with - the new rumble of discontent was, _interesting, _to say the least.

Despite the unwelcome sign, it was impossible to overly ignore the evidence that the demon's unrest had much to do with the difficult mortal whom he watched from the shadows. Without a doubt, the surge of dark chatter had not ceased since her late entrance to the exclusive soirée held in the Vandersteine's primary residence.

Of course, he had been aware of the lesser family's artless ploy to further the Vandersteine name in their closed society, but he had grossly underestimated the impact of hasty promise made many years before - that if he overlooked the Vandersteine's involvement with his own father's endeavours, then their first daughter sired would be his.

Even prideful as a younger man, he had dismissed the idea as ludicrous. Had not wanted to _own_ any female, but the patriarch of the House of Vandersteine had merely manipulated the offering to reflect marriage instead. One form of bondage was as good as another - except when it garnered a higher status it seemed.

Admittedly, quite confident that years of peace would blur the promise to nothing, he had allowed the agreement to pass by without the appropriate challenge and now, with many years passed, the matter of the House of Vandersteine's first born female reared again.

That very woman was before him.

As he had walked in her footsteps, his agile mind had already dismissed the ploy as ridiculous, no matter the rumble of disagreement from down below. It had been a deliberate course of action, carefully planned, that had steered him far away from the style and manner of his father's hegemony. As such the very idea of participating in an arranged marriage left something of a bad taste in the mouth of a man with refined sensibilities.

In his opinion, the entire family could learn something of control before they set their sights any higher - he was loathe to encourage the patriarch.

Additionally, he had been less than pleased by Marc's handling of his own, very mortal, kin. Especially at the report of the circumstance surrounding her summons. Nothing escaped his sphere of influence, it was essential to the preservation of many things, but Livia Vandersteine's benign abduction had roused something best left alone.

_Women, related or not, should always be handled with a calm sophistication._

It was doubtful that her brother would be forgetting the forthright lecture which had been so sharply delivered to him the very next day, not any time soon anyway. Putting aside the demonic influence, he was a man without a family to call upon, where as the House of Vandersteine only seemed too keen to squander the connections they had. It had given an unexpected flavour to his rebuke, and whilst he had witnessed some improvement in the dynamic between the two siblings, there were hard miles still to be traversed.

It was the thought of Marc's predicted progress, slow and painful, which acted as a timely reminder of why he had not concerned himself with more pressing, permanent liaisons in all of his time. In a perfect vacillation of emotion he remembered more intimate, but less lengthy trysts with the fairer sex were the limits of his patience - certainly the type of relationship he believed himself to be more adept at.

_Women and the troubles they bring_, he thought with a touch of corrosive acid.

Indeed, whilst he did not agree with the method of summons and continued to place full responsibility for the entire matter with Marc, there was little to no empathy for Livia's current predicament - he had every intention of delivering another lecture and then dismissing her all the same.

He had no need to for a female, the inner pacing would surely slow on a closer inspection.

Satisfied with his stance on the matter he watched his target indulge in a private moment of play as she released a happy sound that settled strangely in the shadowed environment. With a small flick of her ankle across the blue water, small droplets launched themselves into the air before landing all around her.

The laugh was merry, uncontrolled in the depths it plumbed as it reached him in the shadows and subsequently stopped him from making his presence known immediately. Instead, her playful actions had brought her feminine profile more clearly into view and at the sight, his restless inner pacing turned into something more demanding.

The was no denying that he had seen her before in the drawing room, the way she had paraded around alternating between spoiled boredom at the opulent surroundings and then daunting anger at her self-made predicament, but all of those expressive emotions had marked her fine features at the time. As had his own mind been cluttered when the knowledge of being forced to deal with such a trivial matter had been pushed. Now, both barriers had fled.

With hands deeply seated in the pockets of his charcoal grey suit, he tilted his head in order to better examine the view.

_Out in the cold_, he thought.

His dark gaze watched her lean to one side as she balanced precariously in order to skim the surface of the warm water with the tips her painted toes once more, his keen eyesight caught the predictable rise of goosebumps along her bare legs. Not incredibly tall, she was petite as many would say, but all the same the firm flesh of her legs extended enticingly upwards into a very short hem.

Undisturbed in her small game, he could sense her mind's pleasure at the contrasting effects of the welcoming warmth of the water and the cutting chill of the cold. Lit from under by the flattering blue of the pool, it was likely a moment he would carry with him for many years to come as she allowed a carefree smile to grace her attractive features.

All of her life she had unknowingly been promised to him because of the evil deeds committed by their forefathers, deeds that she would barely comprehend in her modern life. For Livia, Marc's words and promise of marriage would be an uncomfortable situation, but at the persistent edge of his demon - _he_ was coming to realise that Marc's plan wasn't the entirety of the mortal's troubles.

Little did she know that she might just come to be initiated into a world of fantasy at his own desire.

Clear as the Dog Star above them, he knew that there was so much more to be added to her list of worries. He almost felt regretful at the prospect of disturbing her peaceful reprieve and thereby taking away her most pleasurable pursuit yet, but there were now more undeniable matters to be seen to.

His _own_.

Livia's shadow was about to introduce himself with characteristic charm and a disarming smile for his chosen partner, but before he could do so she stopped her idle play with the water and did something that surprised his unflappable calm. Something wholly unexpected for the season.

The eternal gentleman wanted to call out to her and make her aware of his presence before it was too late, but the rake and rogue inherent held his tongue immobile as anticipation swept reason off its feet.

Livia's dress of gorgeous black and coy chiffon slithered to floor as she stepped out of it to reveal a surprise of candy pink lingerie. Its vibrancy was as daring as the short dress she had careless dropped to the stone floor, but the strapless plunge of demi lace and equally appealing bikini panties contributed a certain _je ne sais quoi_ to the outline of her feminine body.

There was no doubt in her shadow's mind that Livia Vandersteine was a very attractive woman with seemingly unusual, but appealing taste in both clothes and habit. Regardless of the demon's wants, as a flesh and blood man - he very much enjoyed the show.

What fine lace artistically obscured from the eye only served to enliven his imagination as she stood completely unaware. As he had noted earlier, she was not tall by any means as she stretched her arms high over her head, but regardless, it was enough to urge the heating of his blood as she came to gently loosened all the pins from her hair in order to gather it up high and then blissfully moan deeply as she messaged her aching skull with long fingertips.

From the vulnerable stretch of skin at the back of her exposed neck, down the crafted curvature of her spine and over the provocative edges of her lingerie, right down to the gentle footfall of the soles of her feet - it was apparent to him in a rush that perhaps _one _woman might be worth the loss of his coveted peace.

On thoughts of an altered goal, he unintentionally released a breath full of expectation that was loud enough to cause the woman in question to turn sharply in his direction, but full of unexpected surprises - her eyes appraised him and then instantly dismissed him as she then turned back to dive straight into the blue water.

_Hardly a ripple, perfectly practised,_ he noted as beneath the water she reached the end of the small pool and doubled back without breaking the surface of the water for a single breath.

Like a water sprite, she appeared ethereal in the blue light with her hair trailing down her back as she moved fluidly though the rippling liquid, graceful as she strongly pulled herself towards the end of another length.

_I wonder if she displays the same endurance with other physical activities?_

But as keenly as he saw the fine detail of her figure, he suddenly became more aware of a series of emotions that vaguely clattered over the field of his subconscious. Nothing like the usual currents he was able to call upon, they were her emotions which rippled down an unfamiliar mental path that slowly blossomed into being.

Tentative, unprompted by either of them, but present all the same.

Of course, her shadow was so struck by the poignancy of their connection that he gave her obvious anger no mind even though Livia clearly bristled with the intrusion on her privacy. Its hot edge gave way to a smouldering heart that did little to overcome the dominant thoughts of companionship in his mind.

In fact, he played host to the notion with increased vigour as he made his way to stand at the very edge of the pool, right next to her discarded belongings. Deliberately, he chose to walk the small distance until his leather dress shoes finally stood next to her own discarded stilettos.

Both were black and both were designer pieces that said much about their owners.

When only a few moments had passed, both man and demon waited patiently for Livia to finally break the surface of the water before them. Together in their purpose, it began to feel like the hand of time deliberately moved slower, just to test their commitment. Eagerly her movements were tracked, the combined entities entirely ensnared with a sense of growing anticipation that had quickly transcended any previous thoughts of dismissing the female with a stern lecture.

When the moment of her reveal did arrive, they were not disappointed.

On a dragged inhale, Livia smoothly broke the surface of the water to breathe in the cold night air. It apparently eased her burning lungs as the water released parts of her upper body in a reluctant sluice that left her golden hair a shade darker with a few loose tendrils clinging to her damp cheek and neck.

A single lock tantalisingly caught against her devilled pout.

She came to stand on the bottom on the pool for a moment, the level of the water only reaching her ribcage much to his inner rogue's pleasure. With an appreciative eye he flickered a subtle glance over the wet lace that was utterly saturated with water, but subtle though it may have been, it did not go unnoticed by her observant nature.

In a change from the earlier confrontation, Livia's appealing veneer was only enhanced by the look of ire that entered her blue eyes when it settled squarely on the man above her. She lacked the strange darkness that had briefly flitted beneath her features. Instead, her steely gaze was not in the slightest bit amused as it overflowed with haughty indifference, but much to her apparent chagrin, he only stared right back - very unlike the usual result.

Cowed by his confidence, but not defeated Livia sank back into the water until it was almost level with her chin. Whilst the heated displeasure remained in her gaze, she was still wise enough to retreat under the undisputed power of his own stare.

"Cold?"

"No."

The adamant denial was delivered tightly, too tightly as a breeze meandered its way over the surface of the warm water, but Livia was not about to admit the bashful truth to a perfect stranger who just happened to frequent her brother's gatherings.

A stranger who had likely followed her on Marc's _recommendation_.

It simply was not going to occur, no matter how attractive the stranger appeared as he eased the tailored jacket from his broad shoulders and then let it rest it in the capable crook of one arm.

"Lonely?"

Undeterred by her undisguised brush off, Livia's shadow asked her another question. Unusually, she found his voice excessively appealing, deep enough to convey a rough masculine form, it was also measured - soft in an intensity that she had never encountered before.

In years to come, Livia would be more versed in his ways and learn that the tone was wanting, seeking in its pathways. The deep timbre that strained in roughened notes indicative of his demon prowling closer and closer to the surface, but for now, it didn't amuse her to have her sanctuary invaded.

She had been enjoying herself at the seat of her childhood home for the first time since waking up that morning, but her luck seemed determined to ruin everything for her.

The fact that she was barely dressed simply did not register as important in the instant, nor did she take further account of his appearance as the shadows continued to hide most of his features. In any case, she was partially blinded by the angle of the light beneath her.

"_Lonely?_"

She repeated his earlier words sarcastically.

"For you, or my previous solace?"

"Obviously my company-"

"Then you'd be wrong," Livia interrupted with a roll of her eyes.

She was about to sink beneath the water once more and complete another lap or two, but before she did, she turned to him and said, "Run along back to my brother and his darling _hostess_, you'd get more accomplished with them rather than wasting your time on me."

Having issued the curt dismissal she didn't wait for a reply, but sank down into the water to follow the black and white tiles that lay at the bottom of the pool all the way to the other end. After using such a cutting tone, Livia fully expected him to leave her be - it had worked on a whole host of men before.

Indeed, it most certainly had preserved her isolation in many instances. The thought of past experiences appeased her suspicions enough that she decided to cover only half of her previous distance before she rose to inhale the cold air once more.

But, her relief was short lived as the sound of his voice immediately penetrated her conscience, "I feel slightly insulted that you think _I _should be the one entertaining your brother."

On a twist Livia saw him casually walk up the short length of the pool towards her, he placed his hands behind his back as he did so and her attention was drawn to his height and breadth. He was only slightly taller than her brother, but it was the way in which he moved that dominated her inspection.

Deliberately, fluidly and objectively.

As he came closer to her at an angle, the lights from the pool cast his features into better relief and she was struck by the absurd affect they had on her. It was as if she found herself uncommonly attracted to him as a flutter unfurled within her chest as she drifted in his direction.

"If anything you will come to know that he does everything possible and more to entertain _myself,_" he said and then stopped to face her in the pool.

Livia was unable to deny that her stranger was a handsome man as he stood over her. His features were predominantly even with a calm indifference that, if prompted, could likely become animated with passion.

She was drawn to that trait - the calm well.

Though, she could well imagine her shadowed stranger staring down at her in cold disdain over such a nose, for the time being he showed no signs of its onset despite her sharp tongue. As she tilted her head to one side, it was hard not to notice the strange draw that bubbled up to entice her further, his dark eyes seemed such a somber hue that she felt the tide turning.

"Why would my brother lower himself like that?"

This time Livia used a lighter tone in order to engage the male before her. At the same time she tilted her head to the side and rose a little higher as her arms made idle circles beneath the surface of the water to stay afloat. It served her primary purpose, but it also provided an unprecedented distraction as it caused unhurried ripples of water to lap against the exposed curves of her breasts.

"I asked you a question," she repeated.

"And I was distracted," he replied without a qualm.

"Touché."

It was all she said and he was intrigued that not a trace of a blush entered her serene expression. Although she had clearly understood the cause of his distraction, it didn't seem to undermine her confidence or disturb her equilibrium. Fascinatingly, she continued the action.

"Indeed," he left the word to hover in the air as they equally assessed each other in turn.

"What do I call the man who intrudes, _rudely_, on my time alone?"

"I think you're well versed enough in snap judgements to think of something," he said with a tone that neither admonished nor teased her. "I'm a little tentative to disclose such sensitive information considering your questionable temper."

"Can't we call it a passionate outburst?"

"There isn't that much room in diplomacy for such an unstable emotion-"

"Do you value diplomacy in a woman?"

"Do you care?"

"I asked you, didn't I?"

He merely allowed a small smile to curve his mouth as he silently anticipated her next words.

"I never thought men of your obvious circle thought that much of my side of the species anyway - what have I got to lose?"

"Only your pride," he countered.

"It's easy enough to build back up again once you get the hang of humiliation, but I still want to know your name first?"

"But you don't like my circle of acquaintance, I think I'll keep that information to myself and therefore keep you with me a bit longer-"

"I'm not that curious, I just thought I'd give you the chance to avoid an unfortunate nickname," she interrupted him.

"Like?"

With a smile she forged ahead enjoying their small game.

"Stalker?"

"Unimaginative."

"Voyeur?"

"Better, but it lacks the right level of participation," he conceded.

"Both have something in common - a certain level of _harassment_."

"You don't you enjoy my presence?"

"I don't like being staked to an imaginary bed with your eyes," Livia replied with a teasing husk.

Tired of keeping herself afloat she stretched to reach the side of the pool and rested at its edge. At the action her handsome shadow deftly lowered himself to his haunches and came closer to her level before resting his elbows upon his thighs.

His movements were so quick that she found it disconcerting how soon he was directly before her, but greater was the need to better observe his eyes. A flare of gold resided in the deep hue she had spied from a distance and up close they were as tantalising as promised. Rich and deep they drew her willingly down a dark path that was unfamiliar, but felt exceedingly predestined.

With their faces moments apart he said with a tempting smile, "Would you prefer to be chained to my bed?"

Those eyes of his watched her intently as she equalled his inflammatory comment without pause, "No offer of silken ropes or lace blind folds?"

At the spoken words Livia noted with interest that his features unnaturally sharpened before her eyes, but the glint of gold still enticed her enough to add, "You're not even tempted to simply free me from chains and allow a minx her way?"

"Minx or sadist?"

On a teasing tut she placed her hands on the ledge and gently pushed further up from the water. The action splashed water on his leather shoes, but he was more concerned with her blood red pout that came so close he could feel her warm breath across his skin.

"Whatever we call it, I promise you'll enjoy it shadow-man."

The instinct to pull her into his arms was riding him hard as she remained poised before him with the glint of bait in her eye. It simply wasn't enough in that moment to feel her equal attraction through their growing bond.

"Well, shall we just start slow with a light swim in the evening air, later a bottle of your favourite champagne and then my finest silk sheets until dawn?"

He saw the playful light dance in her clear eyes as she brought one small fist to her teeth and applied a light biting pressure to her knuckle dramatically before pushing back into the water on a small spash that sent ripples far and wide.

As Livia did so she added, "It's a tempting an offer, but my brother would completely disapprove of such despicable behaviour - what _would _he think?"

_That it was fate_, he thought silently. _That I'd given in to them._

With no further words spoken out loud he watched her physically pull further away from him and their shared intimacy. He also said nothing when she finally reached the ladder of the pool and drew herself up from the water completely.

Having escaped the warm water in a wet trail, that the light breeze made her well aware of, Livia focused with all of her discipline in order to take light steps towards his hunkered down figure. Apparently heedless of the tightening of her flesh in the cold, she stood there with a hand on each hip looking down at him.

At her silent demand for attention he only turned ever so slightly to acknowledge her presence before taking a slow perusal her wet skin from the tips of her painted toes to the intriguing blue twinkle in her eye.

"Your real name before I depart," Livia requested, keenly holding back any trace of the cold that _must_ have seized her.

"A lady never demands-"

"That's because she's usually surrounded by those able to determine her wishes," she interrupted him.

At first she thought he would remain silent, but he slowly uncoiled to raise himself to his full height before her. Indeed, she had known he was tall before, but standing before him in wet lingerie made the difference all the more palpable.

Recklessly, Livia noted she could ask for little more in a man as she allowed her eyes to linger across the expanse of his chest beneath the fine cotton short and up to that face which both intrigued and unsettled her.

Of course the laden look he subsequently gave her was designed to unnerve a much lesser mortal, but she was not just anyone. He didn't seem to appreciate her tenacity in getting what she wanted - his name.

Seasoned as an underdog, Livia saw right through his intentions to gain the upper hand by making her feel self conscious under his knowing gaze. In the face of that penetrating look, all she did was move even closer to him, unwilling to allow it. She knew full well that the wet material which clung to her like a second skin was undeniably riveting to his male interest - taunting him to give up the look of censure.

It was no surprise when he lost the battle of wills and his golden gaze simply turned, _hungry_.

"Shadow-man, I modelled lingerie for some time - do you think I'd get unsettled just because your lovely eyes covet me?"

He remained stock still, evoking a level of control that he was widely famed for as she drew even closer. Admirably, even when the warm wet lace brushed against his arm, dampening the sleeve of his shirt on contact, he remained unmoving. Only the sure tensing of every muscle in his body gave anything away of the strain he faced in order to resist the temptation of her wiles.

With satisfaction, Livia watched the tension gather in his firmly clamped jaw and took the uneasy sharpening of a his features as a sure sign her delectable stranger was close to breaking point. Oddly convinced of her safety, she placed her hand at his waist and gently drew up on the balls of her feet to reach his ear.

"Oh my poor voyeur, you will need to do much better in order to devour me whole," she huskily entreated.

With that said she lowered herself and then gently slid the jacket from where it rested over his rigid arm. It's fine material eagerly slithered to do her bidding as, on the pretence of a demure lady, she draped it over her rapidly cooling shoulders.

Wrapped in his jacket, Livia's eyes mocked him one last time before she walked on towards the other end of the pool and then bent innocently at the knees to retrieve her heels - with fingertips laced through the straps she walked out through the gate.

As usual she left the gate to close with a juddering _clang_ behind her retreating figure.

Alone, he was left to openly admire his unwitting bride and simply promised the night air, "I shall indeed."


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"_to all things mundane and old"_

The morning had dawned fresh and crisp, but in the surrounding wild wood the light had difficulty penetrating the thickly interwoven branches. Watery light only just filtered through the green and partially yellowing foliage to land gently on the frost patterned floor beneath. Its consistency changed ever so slightly as an odd gust of wind caused the heavy branches to sway and creak.

The general grounds of the house had been as silent as the grave, but out where nature was left in relative peace it was inhabited by the more general noise of mother nature. Something that was meant to soothe her whirling vortex of complexities, something that only mother nature might achieve.

_Crunch. Crunch._

Amidst the creak and sway came the sound of Livia's footfall as she rhythmically pounded the earth on an old trail through the woods. It was to the tune of her heartbeat that she ran having left all of her modern conveniences behind.

Unfortunately, she couldn't leave her thoughts behind so easily.

_Crunch. Crunch._

Livia rarely ran, in fact she abhorred the exercise, but there were some things that she found even less bearable at certain times, like her restless slumber of late. Of course, the blood pumping exertion worked on many levels to not only exhaust her, but also to distract her.

The fact that it also warmed her body, clothed only in rose-coloured running gear, was an added advantage.

When she turned a sharp corner of the trail, the cold slapped against her heated flesh with a vengeance, but she was more grateful that it was simply the weather which had come to greet her and not another soul to descend upon her. It was a roiling unease that gripped her at every potential to collide with her brother, but her restless sleep had at least allowed her to rise between five and six in the morning.

As such, it was all but guaranteed that she would have the large grounds of the house all to herself.

Tired of not being able to rest peacefully and sick of lacking her usual work to occupy herself, she had made amends for part of her unrest before venturing out to find solace in the steady fixation of a run. With precision, Livia concentrated on deftly placing one foot in front of the other in order to exorcise her unruly demons, but over the years she had forgotten how hard the practised art truly was - her admirable lope was no match for the speed of her thoughts.

The dirt path became more narrow as it veered further around a bend and the large trees began to close in more tightly around her, but no matter how hard she concentrated on the smell of pine and damp earth, all she could see were her, once, childhood haunts. In particular came the scent of everyday items that she never thought to remember quite so well.

Freshly cut roses and polished wood seemed synonymous with her home.

Evocative.

Painfully so.

No matter how hard Livia might have wished herself away, or tried to claim ignorance to her location in that it was just another place to rest her head amongst many, Livia's soul recognised home.

Undeniably, it rejoiced with relief at the knowledge, despite any memories that refused to give her peace. It didn't particularly care for the issues that her head struggled with, it simply felt as if a long awaited call had finally been answered.

As if she had never left with no thought to return, the map of her home was succinctly imprinted on her mind. Time had failed to erode its accuracy as she knew instinctively that an upcoming fork to the left would take her down to a small stream that was filled with tiddlers, eager to make their way to the lake at the north of the grounds.

This wild wood was most definitely hers for Livia knew its secrets quite well.

Once, a much younger version of herself had spent so very long staring into the shallow depths of that very stream that the morning had turned to afternoon and then on to late evening. Blissfully ignorant to the panic she would cause, Livia had whiled the hours away quite alone.

But meanwhile, imagining the worst outcome, the entire household had been thrown into an uproar in their search, every stone had been overturned in order to find her. It was with a twinge of guilt that she freshly recalled her distraught maid who had cried and cried upon her emergence, but even more vivid was the scolding she had received from her father.

On an exaggerated exhale, Livia shook her head as if to physically loosen the thought and then pushed harder in a different direction. On exerted pants she inhaled deeply, harder now from the strain and frustration as she recalled her father.

_Dmitri Stephanos Vandersteine._

_The man's name was almost as unforgivable as he was himself, _she thought to herself and side-stepped a fallen log with surprising dexterity.

Of course, like always, Livia failed to give a voice to the correct address for a member of her family. Even in her own mind, she failed to think of her father as _His Grace_. A small sign of rebellion that had taken hold during one of their few, but lengthy interactions.

That afternoon, so long ago it seemed, he had let her know in clear terms what it was to be a _Vandersteine_. Or more precisely, what it meant to be a _woman_ of the Vandersteine line. It had nothing at all to do with the childish aspirations of a twelve year old girl.

A girl that had wanted to do more than follow a preordained mould. One that had wanted to reach higher, beyond petit point stitches, because when she did come to decide upon the correct shade of red for the velour drapes in the reception room of her abode - it would be because they were her own.

_Earned, not given_.

Waylaid by the vision swamping her senses, Livia slowed to a jog as she recalled his reaction that day, when they had last shared earnest words. In particular, his expression and his tone had struck poignant notes with hindsight. Where her mother had been worried sick and had showed the relief of a loving parent, her father had merely shown relief at an abated crisis once his anger had simmered down.

The lecture, their disagreement, had previously taken all of her attention in the memory, but Dmitri Vandersteine had reacted a little oddly. It was terrible of her to think it, but it had almost seemed to her that he had shown the same relief that an investor might of displayed in reclaiming prized cargo.

Indeed, as soon as the ugly thought was given a voice, Livia had the grace to blush.

As for Marc, well, her brother's actions reflected the eternally honourable course as he had stood beside their father and had looked fatally disapproving, even at the age of sixteen. It had been the look in her sibling's eyes that had turned the evil day into the defining moment in Livia's young life when the great rift had started.

When the cracks had given way to gaping craters.

_All over nothing, nothing at all, _she thought to herself.

From then on, a predictable pattern had emerged in that the more Livia's father had attempted to steer her in an appropriate direction, the more she had come to resent him and move to do the complete opposite. It had been the loud fights over her choice of foreign schools and her artisan friends that had been the only breaks in silences that filled the final contact between the two.

It had been heartbreak over petty trifles that mattered very little in reality.

_Isn't it always easier with hindsight_, she thought fatally.

Of course, neither had won in any measure as Livia had finally enlisted her mother's aid to move abroad, to London.

Curiously, Catherine had never denied her request and in some ways the willingness she showed in helping Livia had confused the young adolescent.

Exhausted, she slowed to a walk amongst the dense trees in the wild wood. As her muscles burned with exertion, her pants inhaled deeply of the cold air and the slow track of sweat ran down the contour of her back.

Livia had never quite understood the help she had received from her mother in order to take up her studies in London. Perhaps her mother had been tired of the constant war that raged between her husband and daughter, that she tired of brokering temporary treaties between the two, but whatever the reasons, Catherine had taken them to her grave.

It was on the literal dying notes of such a thought that Livia slowed completely and then dragged her fingers savagely through her hair to release it from an elastic band. With her head in her hands she lowered herself to sit upon the damp, cold carpet of leaves with an ungracious thump.

A breeze gently meandered its way towards her as she threw herself backwards to stretch out beneath the canopy of yellow and amber leaves. A beautiful sight for such unpleasant thoughts, the canopy was sporadically pierced by the vibrant verdant of evergreens. Together with the wind, it was chilling, but somehow enjoyable.

"Why did it have to be like this?"

Uncaring of appearing the possessed recluse, she asked the question loudly of the lonely space around her with hands outstretched in frustration before they thumped back down again. She sighed slowly and stared at the enticing colours of autumn.

Just as the answers alluded her years ago, they did so again.

After years of calling London home, no matter where she roamed, Livia had not once thought of ever returning to Hunter's Fall. Of course, she had enjoyed being away, immersed herself in one distraction after another and had predictably hated it when anyone had dared to bring up the old land.

But, the years away from home had also taught her many things - patience, amongst others.

Unfortunately though, she was a Vandersteine and with it she had truly inherited her father's stubborn nature. With all the patience in the world, it would still have been a cold day in hell when Livia might of considered returning home empty handed. Indeed, it had been the language of money through which she had first thought to best relate to her father, and it had been in the process of making money for herself that it had all gone so terribly wrong.

The method of her success had proven inflammatory, and worse, it had really taken far too long. In waiting for her first cherished million to be realised, both her mother and her father had come to an immediate end.

"Lost opportunities," she quietly murmured, resigned to unseen sights.

In remembrance of that black day, Livia's eyes closed tightly as the threat of tears burned at her throat.

Angry tears that only hindsight could provoke, but moreover she was able to painfully admit that Hunter's Fall was her home. Too late in many respects, reconciliation was one opportunity she would never be able to buy.

Large, cavernous at times, and riddled with memories like wood with rot - Hunter's Fall was hers, scars and all. But as much as Livia appreciated the colder climate and rugged isolation, she still didn't approve of her brother's original purpose.

It wasn't the first time he had tried to meet the conditions of the will in a bid to right a decade of lost opportunities. No, Livia didn't believe for one moment that it would be his last attempt either, but the current state of affairs was Marc's most enthused.

Just like their father, he seemed to want to see her settled with some respectable spouse of repute. Undoubtedly filling the large hall with a blue-blooded brood to match.

_How boring_, Livia thought.

Marc could attempt the glorious feat until he, himself, was blue with trying because there wasn't a man who had held her interest long enough to venture into the deeper waters of a true relationship. It was accepted that her one attempt at forced affection had come entirely too late and she had been entirely unsuited for the game.

Besides, Livia highly doubted that any of Marc's superlative circle would even lower themselves to offer for her, not even for the substantial deeds she would bring with her as a dowry. She might as well of had a scarlet letter embroidered on all of her clothes because she was sure they valued their airs and graces more than a hollow request from her brother. It would never happen.

In the future, Livia might very well return home once in while, but she was safe from the temptations of any man in her opinion. There was little that any suitable man could offer her - or was there?

_Shadow-man did well enough, _interjected her painfully honest subconscious.

On a sigh, Livia turned her head to one side, but not before a secret smile graced her lips at a memory. Amusingly, she faced away to hide a brief blush as she inhaled the rich scent of the earth as the leaves floated down around her from the trees above. With one hand slowly raised, she caught a single leaf between her fingertips and held it up to the dappled light in order to lazily watch the illumination of faded chlorophyll.

The surface was zig-zagged, scarred, with neat lines of phloem and xylem - beautifully crafted and presented clearly as the light shone through the jaded surface, but it did nothing to turn her thoughts away from the galvanising stranger.

He had been demanding, but generous with the danger ultimately lying in his coercion. Indeed, Livia had been quite vulnerable out in the dark and very much on her own, but her interesting shadow had allowed her space when it was needed and had then drawn her closer to him at other times.

There were many questions which she had yet to have answered and a number all revolved around him. It was a disturbing curiosity that she suddenly found herself indulging in once too often - especially on recalling those eyes of amber.

Lamentably, half of her troubles were normally rooted in curiosity and, perhaps, that had been the origin of her strong attraction to him at the pool, her shadow had been so self-possessed that he hadn't struck her as a follower on the trail of her brother's bidding.

He had also seemed highly amused at the suggestion he would bow to _anyone_.

_But could I make him bow to me though?_

The enticing thought slipped out before she could control the wayward line of her imagination.

Guiltily, she sharply sat up from the leaves and took a surreptitious glance around the area. For a brazen female in looks and mannerisms, Livia was apparently quite shy of earnest eroticism. Known to be temperamental by method, but uncommonly icy by social nature, it was a surprising trait.

Seemingly in control, Livia hoisted herself up from the floor to begin the long trek back to the house and, in a promising turn of character, hoped that her shadow was a man who didn't mind a mass of contradictions.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"_to the pleasant call of curiosities unsated"_

"There are no two ways about it Michael," she fumed from behind the large mahogany desk. "I will not sell ten years of blood and sweat to just see it taken apart, or worse-"

"Worse Liz?"

"Yes, _worse_," she replied unhelpfully into the mobile which was held rather rigidly.

"Going to expand or is this another guessing game?"

"Don't push your luck, you're my lawyer, not my _friend_," she clipped.

He gave an indulgent sigh and replied in an unruffled fashion, "It is a lot of money they're offering-"

"I have money already, and don't you dare make the chain sound so unworthy of the offering price."

"I never said that Liz, but how can you refuse so, so _flatly_?"

"I won't see what I worked for cheapened!"

"Liz, on a transactional level they won't even trade under the original name," he said and paused before adding, "the Liberté restaurants are worth a considerable sum, but they're offering even more than is reasonable. They've even drawn up a separate contract for any particular arrangements, like not trading under the original name and keeping the current employees. I think it goes a long way to show how much they want it for the business it is."

"You forget that _I _don't want to part with it," she said more quietly down the connection.

She could hear him vent a long suffering sigh at the other end of the line and she then wondered what time it was in New York. It was likely to be well past six in the evening, but Michael was still working away in her name just like he had always done. Having seen it a number of times, Livia could easily imagine the large monochrome office he was likely sat in, one that commanded some of the finest views of the city.

Of course, she could have called Michael much earlier in the day, but she had been avoiding his messages knowing full well that he would want to press her regarding the sale of the Liberté chain. Whilst it was the best decision for her current position, of which her well abused lawyer and long time friend knew, Livia was still loathe to part with her once beloved endeavour.

She had spent many hours entrenched in decisions regarding marketing, premises and menus - her favourite pastime. Liberté had been there when that other lawyer had knocked, an endeavour that had gladly thrived on the energy she had spent seeking a distraction.

"I like my work," Livia mulishly told him.

"When was the last time you set foot in a Liberté in either Paris, Hong Kong, New York or London-"

"Some things are best run behind closed doors-"

"Bullshit, you let your staff run the show these days."

"I still have an artistic input," she defended hotly.

"Which you will maintain as a board director," he patiently repeated an argument from earlier.

"That's not the same as being the bloody owner!"

"_Alright_, calm it Liz," said Michael. "All I'm saying is that the chain is just an off-shoot of your plans these days."

"I have not neglected them in any way, I know I was due on an inspection on Wednesday, but I've been waylaid-"

"You're more than five years into your _retirement_ from any modelling, I haven't seen you show any love for it, never mind one damned inspection," he stated firmly. "I know you gave your soul to make it a success, but there's no passion for it these days - you're happier baking in the kitchen."

"I resent the implication that I'm _flaky_ Michael," she bit quite sharply.

"Take it that you're too damn restless!"

"Here we go again," Livia muttered and threw her head back onto the plush leather of the office chair.

She reclined further back in the large seat with her feet propped upon the wooden surface of the desk and prepared for her friend's speech. It was not a new piece and it irritated her to hear it all over again, but she would endure it.

"It's all been a success, everything you burn the midnight oil for, but you're still _driving_ ahead. Don't you go thinking that I haven't heard about your research into a certain amount of land on Long Island."

Rather than say anything Livia merely listened to her old housemate's well meaning sermon, but she did shiver as an uncommon draft of cold air passed over the bare skin at her legs and arms. It was quite unexpected, but also chilling in her unreserved ensemble of sleepwear.

Of course, the house had been quiet that evening, with not a single soul to be heard, so she had naturally thought nothing of descending into the study to make the call, wearing only a black lace trim camisole and a pair of matching shorts.

"Property development? Do you _know _how many pitfalls there are?"

She idly toyed with the golden charm at the centre of the lace edged bust whilst attempting to add, "Modelling and holding a chain of restaurants had their charms too-"

"_Had?_"

"You're well aware by now that I don't model anymore-"

"I meant the restaurants," he said hopefully.

There was a silence before she said, "The charity dinner will stay in place?"

"Of course."

Livia uncrossed and then crossed her legs once more at the ankle before finally flexing her toes. Painted a deep blue this time, they drew a direct contrast with the pale tone of her skin.

"I don't want to see it going to the dogs Michael," she said seriously.

"It would be nice if you trusted your lawyer once in a while. I'm a fairly deft hand at water-tight contracts considering I passed the examination bar-"

"You know what I mean Michael," she interrupted in soft tones.

Livia would have added further sentiment as to how much those particular premises mattered to her, of how much of her heart and soul had gone in to making them a success, but her gaze was sharply drawn from her painted toes to the open door.

She narrowed her eyes on the spot wondering if she had really seen a dark shape flicker by. It had only been for a moment, perhaps even a flicker of the light, but curiously, the vision was also accompanied by a strange tug on her attention that remained for much longer.

An undeniable attraction drew her further away from Michael's voice.

"You worked hard as a kid Liz, now learn to reap the benefits, but yes, I know what you mean," he replied very seriously down the line to a very distracted Livia. "I was there to help Cath peel you off the floor-"

"Then you have the go ahead to get it done," Livia said.

Sinking beneath the quicksand of inquisitiveness, Livia dropped her feet to the floor and then rose from the seat to walk slowly around the large desk.

"Wonderful, I'll set up a meeting for the twelfth of this month, that's two days from now, and I'll have your apartment opened up or you could stay-"

"I won't be there Michael," she interrupted his flow of words succinctly without a ready explanation.

Over the thick rug and onto the old floorboards she tread towards the open door and then peeked her head out in either direction. That disturbing curiosity of hers was running rampant again as she thought she might have finally seen _him_ tonight...

"Liz? Where are you?"

"I'm here," she responded, obviously distracted. "You should really start calling me Livia, you know?"

"Since _when?_"

On soft feet, Livia walked out into the large hallway and did her best to try and sense where her shadow might have gone. Whilst it had only been a flicker of her vision, it was the odd sense within that made her sure that her stranger was somewhere very near.

Even as she took further steps down the corridor and a normal sense of doubt descended, it was the coiled anticipation of contact which fuelled her confidence in the unlikely.

"Where _are_ you?"

"I'm home Michael," she said and took his sharp inhale as expected.

"Good God, are you alright?"

The shock in his voice clearly resounded down the line and his gaping pause at the end of the query allowed Livia to take full advantage of that fact.

"You've got what you wanted, now see to it, and you are perfectly capable as acting as my notary in my absence. I expect it in order by the time I see you again - _don't_ forget the new phone."

She finished her words quickly, without fanfare, and then cut the connection with a beep, not at all allowing any time for the questions that were sure to follow.

The slim mobile was placed on a hall table as Livia continued to walk further down the corridor. Her bare feet padded silently over the polished flooring whilst her eyes slid silently over every available surface. If she had thought the house was quiet before, then it was near enough like a grave now.

Well approaching the witching hour, she had assumed all of the inhabitants of the house might of been at rest, but it was more than that. Right and left, she looked down the immaculate hallway that was well lit by the various Tiffany sconces, but she saw nothing to indicate life.

Inching onwards, Livia stopped just before the large front door of the house as the sense within continued to tease her, but gave nothing in return for her attention. Frustrated, she dragged a hand through her loose hair with a sigh and gave a mean look to the door. She knew there was something to be discovered, but it irritatingly alluded her for now.

But instead of pursuing the fruitless search, Livia methodically straightened the thickly beaded charm on her wrist and then pivoted directly to walk sedately back to the study. In a show of measured calm she set aside her curiosity in favour of getting back to more important matters.

All the while, Livia did her best to ignore the odd draft that whispered over her legs once more.

With eyes drifting to the floor she rounded upon the entrance to the study with her mind straying to practical matters. She had every intention of looking over the numbers Michael had faxed through before giving in to the simpler call of bed.

Of course, before she even closed the door behind her a sense of warmth assailed her that hadn't been there before. Out was the light she had left on, replaced by the more gentle glimmer of a freshly stoked fire.

The object of her fatalistic curiosity also sat quite comfortably in the large chair she had recently vacated as he cast an eye over her private documents. Without shame at being caught, he looked at ease, at home even, as the flames of the fire cast interesting shadows about the room.

Apparently, his senses were so acute that he didn't need the desk lamp as Livia had.

"Livia," he said slowly and then drew his gaze up from the legal papers on the desk before adding, "what a pleasant surprise."

Despite the warm tone her dark shadow looked a little more menacing this evening, even in the soft light thrown from the fireplace. Although he appeared relaxed enough as he gradually leaned back in the chair to assess her, the casual air did not permeate his eyes.

"I've been looking forward to seeing you and here you are," he said.

"Hardly a surprise considering it's my home," Livia stated a little too shortly to her own horror.

It had not been intended, to be so short when she had finally found him again. Only, he did like to appear in the places she would least suspect him. Places that put her at an immediate disadvantage. Still, it was no excuse as she mentally scolded herself for such rude behaviour.

"As you are quite fond of letting _everyone_ know."

Delivered quietly, his words contained enough sting to spark an instant response.

"Telling who exactly?"

Her look of mock innocence fooled no one.

"Don't tell me that you're the new resident in my father's apartments too?"

Feeling better, more stable, Livia wouldn't feel bad for the taunt this time, this time she could be pleased that she had, only mildly, resisted a barb in comparison to being called a _two-bit whore _directly_._

Of course, he deflated her accomplishment by giving no verbal response to judge, he only smiled mysteriously at her as if her thoughts already shimmered between them.

At the look, Livia felt doubt tear at her being as she stood on the threshold with one hand gripping the door handle behind her, clearly uneasy to let go. It was the depth of indecipherable knowledge that resided in his dark eyes which made her question the wisdom of being alone in the same room with him.

Indeed, she might have desired to come across her shadow, but now that she had, it was unclear what she should actually do with him.

Of course, Livia's stranger made it no easier for her to reach a timely conclusion as he brought steepled hands to his lips and then merely turned his head ever so slightly to watch her varying reaction, as if inspecting the oddities of prey.

Despite the lack of words, he unpicked her confidence with skill. Made her conscious of the ordinary.

Whilst it had been a tame choice earlier in the evening, she now felt somewhat exposed in her pretty camisole and shorts under his scrutiny - ironic when she'd posed for others in much less.

_Soo damn formal, _Livia thought to herself as she eyed him.

He was dressed in a suit, but gone was the jacket and tie. Instead, the white shirt was unbuttoned at his throat, but he had strangely left his cufflinks in. An entirely neat affair they looked to be studs of amber rather than anything gaudy like her brother had a flare for.

Still, just because she felt under par did not mean she would forget _all_ the manners her late mother had taught her. It was highly likely that he'd respond better to honey, rather than vinegar in her search for answers.

Straining for a polite air Livia asked, "Are you looking for Marc?"

It was an admirable effort, superbly intended, but she then stumbled with a beautiful awkwardness over her next course of action. Livia would have earnestly addressed him by name, but then remembered with some ire that whilst he knew enough about her to parade through her home as if he owned it, she knew next to nothing about him - including his _actual _name.

Of course, he seemed to know exactly what transpired in her head, but he simply continued to regard her through his calm steady gaze that failed to waiver as her emotions tilted so precariously.

"_Well_?"

In a complete turn around from her good intentions to remain polite, Livia all but demanded an answer from him his time.

"_Well_, I'm absolutely fascinated by your obvious indecision towards me," he started, paused to lean forward at the large desk and then said, "resolutions to be polite and then at the drop of a hat you're as mad as hatter-"

"I never did complete finishing school," she interrupted, but was oddly hurt that he should find her inadequate. "One too many strikes for bad behaviour."

As the words left her mouth and then died around them, he rose fluidly from his seated position at the desk with a look that betrayed mild irritation. At once, Livia was surprised to note again how much taller he appeared in the study compared to the evening out by the cottage.

With the rest of him attired in black, the crisp-white of the shirt stood out adamantly. Unhelpfully, Livia reminisced that unlike her shadow, she never wore white if she could help it. The potential for catastrophe was always near.

Of course, he gave no comment in the face of her obvious scrutiny, but continued to approach her on a silent tread despite his hard soled leather shoes, and then said, "You will be surprised to hear it, but I don't particularly care for the _Institut Alpin Videmanette_."

At the accurately spoken words uttered with a perfect command of differing accents, Livia expected him to brush past her and carry on out the room, but he stopped to lean in. Invaded her personal space to then gently encircled her wrist before drawing her completely away from the arc of the door.

It was a cool and firm grasp that held her as she willingly followed him a scant step, or two, before they stopped again and he reached over her shoulder with another hand to push the door shut.

It latched with a _click_ to enclose them both.

"You are Livia and I am Kristos," he stated the informative fact and raised her shackled wrist upwards.

Deftly, he slipped his fingers down under her palm and curled her compliant fingers around his own as he grazed a light kiss over her knuckles.

"Enchanted," he added and watched with pleasure as a pleasing pink painted her cheekbones.

However, the delicate blush was soon controlled moments later as Livia blinked away the fog of her imagination and breathed deeply to steady her unbecoming nerves in his presence. But, much to her shadow's delight, the action simply replaced one satisfying sight with another as it merely did its best to draw unwitting attention to the deep vee of her lace covered assets.

Wisely, he chose to comment on her other attributes.

"Now that we are such, intimate, friends I can safely observe aloud why you seem to love the height of a certain type of shoe."

Kristos' amber gaze travelled from her small toes up to the petite features of her face and then watched for another light blush to predictably tint her cheeks as Livia absorbed the comment.

To his surprise, she did not immediately taking him to task with her tongue. Instead, Livia turned her head away from him in apparent disdain, but he didn't mind the small, silent reprimand as it gave him the perfect opportunity to watch the firelight play in the burnished gold of her hair.

"I'm not that short, you're just too tall-"

"I don't recall such an accusation passing my lips," he denied her words easily.

With his one hand holding her own captive near his chest, Kristos brought the fingertips of his other hand to trail in the fall of her hair. Ever so gently, he allowed the silken strands to pass over the pads of his fingers.

"The exact colour of the sunshine that I can't quite bear," he murmured, seemingly lost in the physical task for a moment. "The Moirai have a sense of humour it seems."

His words confused her with their odd imagery, but Livia remained his passive captive all the same in order to enjoy the feather-light touch at her hair. Agreeably, she felt steadied by an odd pulse of energy that centred within her as he held her hand so considerately whilst the other reverently petted her gently. But moreover, the scent surrounding her was divinely captivating.

So very close, it held lingering traces of his body heat.

Clean and masculine, it appealed strongly as her dark shadow solicitously charmed her.

Of course, those fingertips sensed her ease, her capitulation into his grasp, as they started to move lower. Down they trailed to brush the fall of her hair over one shoulder before they delicately traced the shell of Livia's ear. Twice, the action was repeated before he descended even further to her exposed throat where those fingertips became a hand that proceeded to cup her fragile jaw and then tilt her face upwards, towards his own.

"Such soft skin to complement such intriguing features," he told her honestly then added, "the most beguiling eyes of sky blue - a warm summer's evening, or a bitter winter's morning?."

Kristos' hand released her, but he did not let go of his captive completely. Instead, he lazily trailed a hand down her throat once more before deliberately dragging his touch across her collarbone, over her shoulder, and then, distractedly along her arm.

At first Livia stood still with nervous anticipation for the experience of his touch, enjoyed the small shiver that danced wherever he made contact, but as he eventually came across the bracelet at her wrist, she kept still for an all together different reason. Something that had lurked beneath his polite veneer earlier, came bubbling to life as he brought her adorned wrist between them.

"A love knot," he stated calmly enough, but the flare of impatience was growing.

The roughly carved beads of wood slid along runners of silver that wound around each other in an eternal knot before being loosely gathered at an efficient clasp. It was a very simple keepsake that she wore some of the time, but one that was causing the efficient cogs in Kristos' mind to whir in extraordinary patterns.

When he had gleaned all that he could from the piece, Kristos released her completely from his once gentle hold in exchange for a slightly bruising grip on her upper arms. He pulled her close, closer than before, right up against his chest, and then stared down hard at her even as her soft form yielded to him.

"A little present from _Michael_?"

Without much to add, Livia simply stared at the sudden anger that bubbled out of nowhere from her companion, it was as if her shadow was green-eyed at the mere thought of such a fictitious relationship.

Like they had at the pool his features had somehow sharpened before her eyes, evidenced by the pronounced sculpt of his cheekbones, but despite his unwarranted, unprovoked anger she was more intrigued at the sight rather than fearful of it. As such her hands rose freely to steady herself against his immovable bulk.

"_Livia_," he said her name in warning tones.

But she wasn't intimidated into a response by the sheer threat of his physical form, or tone. In fact, Livia found it a little too amusing that he was already displaying signs of jealousy, so with an arched eyebrow she mockingly shrugged.

The small movement did little for her companion's patience.

"Answer me," Kristos demanded in his inquisition with a slight shake of the petite woman in his grasp.

Some of her hair even fell over her face at the force employed, but Livia mostly watched him in a bemused light. Whilst her mind stated that she was most likely, finally, crazed beyond measure to allow anyone to man-handle her in such an undignified manner, there was another part of her that felt a minor thrill at his jealousy.

Of course, jealousy from a near enough stranger shouldn't of had such a raw effect, it should have repulsed a sane woman, but really, Livia felt that same galvanising tug at her centre from merely watching him suffer through his own tortured imaginings.

He also happened to feel divine beneath her hands that splayed across his chest for balance.

Pleasurably thrilled, she enjoyed her position, but when Livia's feet suddenly left the floor, she was forced to clutch in annoyance at his shoulders to avoid a fall whilst giving voice to her first earnest protest.

"Hey, wait one _bloody_ minute," she tried, but Kristos had none of it.

With hands securely wrapped around her hips he deftly turned back to the desk with her in his arms and then placed her rump down with a small _thump_ on top of all of her papers. A startled sound left her lips as she attempted to scamper away, but he wasn't done yet as he held her in place at the edge in order to press between her thighs before looming largely over her.

A trifle breathless she attempted to placate him with a hand on his chest, "This is a little severe-"

"_Livia_," Kristos interrupted her words with the exaggerated call of her name. "Stop playing with me like this - you know what I want to know."

In a move that surprised her, he abruptly halted encroaching on her space and then brought the palm of his one hand up to cup her jaw. On a soft exhale that drew her like a moth to his eyes, he gently dragged the pad of his thumb against the flesh of her lower lip as if preserving their shape in his mind.

The action was slow and poignantly intimate as they had yet to even share a kiss.

"Livia," he entreated again upon bringing her face closer to his.

"I have waited long enough for you, _this_," he said whilst his other hand caught at the offending trinket and then quickly snapped it clean off her wrist, "is nothing compared to what I can give you-"

"My bracelet!"

She issued the few words in shock and would have turned to watch the pieces spill over the desk and onto the boards of the floor, but he used that same hand to hold her to him tightly. Caught around the waist, unable to move away, Livia was forced completely into his hold for the time being as the sound of the falling beads echoed around them.

"There can be nothing else," Kristos said in a strange tone that had her gazing into his dark eyes.

Of course, there was plenty for Livia to discern in those depths, but first she felt her mounting anger overtake the dark tide of intrigue. With her hands at his chest she pushed with more force, but he merely came closer and pressed her further back against the desk.

At the feel his weight transferring towards her, Livia knew without a doubt that other ways would be required to see him fall. With flint in her gaze she met his own that mirrored concern.

"Why are you fighting me like this?"

In no uncertain terms Kristos felt Livia's subterfuge grow as her angry attempts to move him failed, but although she seemed to rebuff his physical presence, intriguingly, she softened all the same. It was enough of a distraction to turn his mind away from the burning question of the beads.

Lying, seemingly passive, upon the large desk she set his pulse alight as he gazed at what fate had graciously gifted him with. As an ache manifested itself inside his chest, he set aside thoughts of a likely reprisal and chose to heartily enjoy the earthy sight.

Livia's golden halo spread about her shoulders in a wave of soft tresses whilst the secrets of her mind deepened the ever-changing blue of her gaze. Petite, yet exquisitely fashion, she looked delectable with the small spaghetti straps of her camisole proving her one saving grace from his demon's wants.

Her lack of knowledge placed Kristos in something of a conundrum as it presented significant challenges, but with her before him in such close proximity, it was clear that Livia Vandersteine was most definitely of interest to both man and demon.

Dismissing his thoughts, eager for her touch, he tangled a single hand within her hair as he encouraged her to rise from the desk towards him whilst his other hand slipped over the curve of her hip to press into the small of her back.

On a matter of personal principle Livia turned her head from him to deny what he so obviously wanted. The grip in her hair tightened for an instant, but allowed her the privilege anyway.

Kristos only rumbled pleasantly at the small delay tactic and found the soft hollow of her throat instead.

"As delicate as moth wings," he murmured against her skin and punctuated further praise with a series of small kisses up to her ear. "Don't fight me when I'm dying for more," he shamelessly tempted her to his will.

Livia felt her own temptation rise as she helplessly brought her hands to his abdomen and felt the warmth that radiated from beneath the cotton shirt he wore. Beneath her fingertips she could feel the hard contours that tensed beneath her wandering touch as she splayed her hands wider, all the while, her mind demanded they see him the flesh.

To her eternal joy, the solid reality of the increased pounding of his heart let her know that she was not alone in the flurry of emotion. But even with eyes dilated in arousal, Livia still remembered his actions all the same as she turned to face him.

"Let me closer," Kristos stated in a husky tone as he felt one of her legs wrap around his own.

Warm, apparently giving beneath him, Kristos took it as clear sign of victory when the hard flint disappeared from her eyes. That her bracelet and the man who might have given it to her, were equally vanquished.

With success in mind, he proceeded to circle both of his arms around her slim shoulders as he planned to take his first kiss from her bathed in firelight. Drawn towards him, she rested tighter against him until the soft press of her breasts elicited a smile of satisfaction. Not entirely smug, but enough to silently declare his superiority in such matters.

It was enough that Livia's sense of smouldering indignation was greater than her lust.

Sparked, she pushed him sharply backwards with the heel of hands and the swift violence of the move unsettled Kristos entirely as he went to take a remedying step in retreat, but failed to move appropriately due to her deliberate grip.

With an oath he began to topple to the floor, but rather unfortunately for Livia, the immediate smile at her clever action was lost instantaneously as Kristos took her with him on a loud feminine yelp of surprise.

Amongst the many broken pieces of her bracelet, her shadow lay beneath her with a palm on either side of her hip. He didn't look at all put out by the current predicament.

"_Smile_ and I will slap you so help me," Livia gritted through clenched teeth.

As it was she had been forced to restrain her wandering hands as she sat, astride, a prostrate Kristos. With her palms flat against his chest, she did her best to stare down the look of evil amusement in his eyes.

"Was this not the effect you foresaw?"

Try as he might, Livia was not fooled by the innocent tone. He still had that sharpened look about him.

"You know it's not-"

"But that's no reason we shouldn't enjoy the outcome, right?"

With a subtle movement he nudged a awkward bead from beneath his shoulder before shifting her to a more, comfortable, angle. The little sound of protest she made as they became closer aligned was lost as her palms became like little claws at his chest.

"I'm enjoying the outcome at least-"

"You broke my bracelet," she primly reminded him. "I _liked_ my bracelet."

Kristos didn't immediately answer her, but instead chose to create small circles with his thumbs upon the soft material of her camisole. Circles that became larger as his hands moved up and down her sides with little forays beneath her breasts - all designed to tip the scales in his favour.

There was no doubt Livia wanted him, was as susceptible to the invisible call as he was. Despite her verbal claims to the contrary, her hands escaped their confines of controlled restraint and smoothed the cotton over his chest in their own small movements.

"You're not forgiven," she murmured in one last attempt to set him in his place, but the warmth of his touch won out eventually.

With satisfaction Kristos watched her head gently roll back upon her bared shoulders with closed eyes as she enjoyed his methodical touch. Deeper, he messaged the feminine muscles at the base of her spine as she arched a little more in response. Quite lost to the pleasurable sensation she merely flexed her hips to settle more comfortably when the press of his desire became more than apparent.

Fortuitously aware of the sensibilities of the woman above him, Kristos inhaled deeply one last time as his hands slowed to trail away.

"Tell me Livia," he paused to raise himself up on an elbow, "tell me, what would you do _if _I were to kiss you?"

In a change from their earlier meeting he did not first look towards her eyes for an answer, but allowed his free hand to skim her waist right up to the prominent vee of her lace edged top before smoothing the small charm between his fingers. In a particular letter of the alphabet, it was small and warmed from her body heat as it lay idle.

"Tell me?"

This time he looked up to find her regarding him with her dark blue eyes that held the slightest glint of mischief.

"I'd have to at least kick you, or do something equally terrible," she eventually replied.

"Do I dare ask why?"

"If I didn't, you would believe I'm as shameless as my brother _thinks_ I am-"

"You're not?"

Annoyance at his words seized her so suddenly that she failed to see the teasing light in his eyes, but before she could put her thoughts into action, Kristos wisely anticipated her reaction and swiftly altered their positions with the benefit of his superior strength.

With an unlady-like curse Livia found herself staring up at his pleased features, but where she had been tentative of such a dominant position, he seemingly was accustomed to it as he lay over her.

"I am far from accustomed to having such rare beauties accost me like this," he stated with hands splayed at either side of her head.

"Where do beauties of _any_ description accost you then?"

"That is a tit-for-tat that I will win and you will not enjoy-"

At his abruptly halted speech, Livia had effectively unfurled her legs from beneath him and wrapped them around his waist so that they settled abruptly against one another as two puzzle pieces. It was he who released a deep breath for calm at the action.

"You don't hold _every _card Kristos," she breathed with hand wrapped at the collar of his shirt. "Remember that, yes?"

At his rough inhale the calm facade flickered enticingly to give a glimpse of something more beneath the ready image he presented. Unsettling in its brief intensity, Livia encouraged his further loss of control with a small flex of her spine.

Flush, closer to him than any other before, Kristos set like stone as a result of the small action. As such, Livia brought her fingertips to the renewed, sharpened planes of his face.

"I'm not imagining this," she spoke out loud then added as an after thought, "I thought it was the light."

Her touch was as delicate as a feather as she inspected the subtle alterations to his features. The gleam of curiosity in her gaze was heightened as the undercurrents around them swirled a little faster, as if in accord with his state of mind.

Fancifully, a shadow seemed to loom a little closer as it had done at her brother's gathering, pouring out from the man above her and it was, ultimately, fascinating. Whatever force had captured her interest him subconsciously coalesced to cement a lifeline.

When she dragged her fingertips lower, across his lips in a perfect mimic of his own actions, Kristos reached the end of his admirable restraint and brought his lips to hers in one movement that she did not resist. In an almost painful press of cool to warm, wet flesh he encouraged her lips to open for him.

At once, Livia heeded Kristos' call as her hands reached under his arms and grasped his back as she pressed herself upwards, towards him and the pleasure he could incite.

Far from the idyllic, calm joining of romantic vapours, Livia felt her world combust in a mad desire to have him and _only_ him. It translated through the movement of her body as she instinctively rocked the cradle of her hips, unknowingly destroying her companion's good intentions.

With a supreme amount of control Kristos broke their kiss and buried his face in the curve of her neck to regain his stolen sanity, because as was natural to their kind, the demon within was clamouring for the bond to be sealed between them. So much so, that he felt the dangerous rise of his bloodlust from her unpracticed, but lethal coercion - a feat she was less than prepared for.

"Kristos?"

Livia said his name on a husky breath that had him damn fate for being so trying.

Instead of answering her directly, Kristos pressed a kiss to the side of her throat in order to buy time he could better use to control the demonic side to his uncommon nature. It worked as she sighed and tilted her head to better accommodate his roving kisses.

"I like it too much when you do that to be concerned with what your last name even is," Livia confessed.

"Worried that you're cavorting with the help?"

"Considering how you tempt me, I'm thinking of calling you out for being Lucifer himself-"

Livia failed to complete her sentence as she was overtaken by another drugging kiss that encouraged her to lose her mind over a mere man, but one that could play upon her thoughts and senses with alarming accuracy.

When Kristos reluctantly pulled away she voiced her dissatisfaction with a mewl of disapproval, but he would not be persuaded otherwise.

"We will wait until our marriage bed-"

"_Our what_?"

Livia incredulously interrupted him with words that were strange to her ears.

"Any bed then," Kristos said calmly to soothe her ruffled feathers and the wide eyed look that spelled trouble for his plans. "Something softer than hardwood flooring, yes?"

Despite his smile for her, he found it less than amusing that her brother had not informed her of the identity of her groom, but then again Kristos wasn't so arrogant as to assume imparting such information would overly change the course of Livia's original take on an arranged union.

When she didn't seem convinced by his words, he added in a teasing fashion, "My command of our native tongue is much than my English, we could always-"

"You're lying to me Kristos," she said sagely beneath him. "You're English is better than mine and you forget that some of the papers you were spying on the desk are in French - you know plenty."

He chose not to say anything, but allowed a small smile to play around his lips as he looked down on her prone form.

To his eternal surprise Livia did not pursue the subject or take him to task for reading through her confidential papers, but he did feel her physically bookmark the incident, along with many other discovered curiosities, for later investigation.

Of course, she was set to surprise him frequently as her next words were in a direction he had not intended to revisit.

Shifting from beneath him, she said, "The beads were a present from a children's hospital."

Allowing her movement, more concerned with her words, Kristos moved to lie on his side in order to prop himself up on an elbow as she spoke further. Relaxed in pose, he appeared content for all purposes.

"_Liberté _holds charity dinners and other events that raise money for my causes."

Delicately, sure to mind any of the wooden beads, she curled her legs under her first as she appraised his expression, but gleaned nothing from it. When he seemed intent on silence, ironically coupled with a knowing look, Livia arched an elegant brow as she unveiled her ace.

"That bracelet was my Christmas present last year _and_..."

She trailed off with a particular emphasis that spoke volumes for his behaviour as she rose up to stand. Hands upon her hips, Livia knew without glancing down that he watched the lean line of her legs saunter away from him.

Only at the the door, did she twisted the handle and then turned back to look at him at the last moment.

With a knowing air, she concluded, "And _Michael,_ for the record, is my long suffering lawyer."

The door then closed on her smile with a subdued _click_.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"_to the pleasantries of nightbane"_

Livia awoke quite suddenly to the darkness of her room.

In the dead of the night something had called, but around her there was nothing to see. Alone in the gloom, she could hear the faint patter of rain as it fell against the glass of her patio doors, splashing against the panes in an odd rhythm that was regularly encouraged by the wind.

With curtains open, as they remained on most nights, the light of the partially obscured moon allowed her to watch the trail of rainwater run down the glass as it filtered through to her bedroom floor. Pale and watery, it inspired all manner of thoughts as she turned deeper into the warmth of her bed.

_Pitter, patter._

Although her eyes were somewhat heavy as she continued to watch the play of light and rain, Livia's mind ran in different circles in a desperate attempt to latch on to whatever might have disturbed her deep sleep. It had been too much like a fleeting ghost of an emotion passed in her estimation.

The thick comforter rustled gently as she rolled onto her back and stretched lazily like a cat in order to shake the cobwebs of sleep from her mind. With a tired yawn she dragged a hand over her face and pushed the tumble of her hair back from her face.

With an uncanny ability that she dared not explain, Livia intrinsically knew that _something_ had disturbed her enough to pull her from sleep, but unfortunately, she seemed to lack the precise knowledge of whom or what. Most interesting, it was vaguely like a sensation she had experienced before coming across Kristos in the study, but perhaps not as potent, or so she reminisced.

Silence of thought reigned serene for a moment before her overly long sigh punctured the sound of light rain as Livia glanced at the time her digital clock proudly displayed in red upon her wooden bedside table.

"Three AM and woken by nothing, _nothing_ but my imagination," she muttered crossly with an arm thrown across her eyes.

Muttering further profanities, Livia sat up and dragged the duvet from her warm body at the same time, but halted in the last few moments as the cooler air of her room came into direct contact with her vulnerably bare skin. She mumbled another oath with sleepy enthusiasm and then dug earnestly beneath the askew comforter for something to wear.

But unable to find the items she had discarded just before bed, and unwilling to bring more than moonlight into the room to aid her search, Livia settled for an over sized, threadbare tee from a bedside draw. Washed more times than she cared to count, the old Hardrock Cafe logo had long since faded, but the soft length would settle at mid thigh to serve its purpose adequately.

Having pulled the tee over her head, Livia dropped her feet to the deep vanilla carpet as she sat on the very edge of her high bed and took a good look around her room, but much to her disappointment there was nothing amiss, nothing to support her half-baked ideas of the surreal. Everything was in its rightful place with the only exception being a grey suit jacket that was carefully slung over a chair, something that she had acquired a few nights ago and had not parted with since.

Of course, her lovely eyes clouded with conflicting emotions at the sight.

As thoughts bubbled over themselves within her chest a strange chill, neither unpleasant nor pleasant, seeped into the space surrounding her and collected over the bare skin of her legs, but this time, Livia merely attributed the strange event to a lack of covering rather than anything else - it was the early hours of the morning after all.

But, be that as it may, the dismissal did not stop the goose bumps from rising all along her skin as a sense of heightened awareness trickled down her back. It lingered like a watchful gaze, as if waiting for her to set the tone for the next series of mysteries.

On another forced sigh, Livia dragged her attention back to the moving shadows that graced her patio doors as she stubbornly refused to contemplate the frequent and strange awareness that was too often robbing her of sanity. Of course, she wasn't short of new developments to contemplate by any stretch of the imagination.

_Kristos._

Even said only in her mind, his name brought an undeniable warmth that was hard to ignore.

As easily as that, Livia brought to mind his memorable voice as he had made the overly simple introduction between them. Simple names spelled out, but intriguing all the same. A darker brand than she was used to, but as comforting as it was alarming - compelling even in its mild tones that neither forced nor simpered but merely _were_.

_Undeniable indeed_, she thought.

But what did she really know about him, besides his habit of stalking her home at the most ridiculous hours?

Her shadow may of had the deepest eyes she had ever seen, a breadth of chest she did not mind admitting a weakness for, and kisses that could become her favourite drug in a very short space of time, but what did she actually know?

Was he another one, just like her brother?

Was he bored, too wealthy - hoping for sport?

Livia could only painfully guess at Kristos' motives for indulging with her, but his pointed remarks that often confused her at their time of issue did their utmost to keeping her wondering. Back and forth they paced seeking any answer.

_What on earth did he mean the other night?_

Despite the warning bells that rang loud and clear in her mind, the surprising take on a now watery ambition to leave Hunter's Fall, and the once adamant lack of interest in any suitable man - Livia Vandersteine was deathly curious regarding her apparent shadow.

It had been several days since their last encounter and Livia had, unashamedly wanted more from a man who was only slightly less than a stranger to her. She had haunted the whole house and even braved rooms best forgotten in her search of him.

But nothing had yielded the results she had desired, especially disappointing was the time she had spent in the study reliving their last meeting. Paperwork, ideas for a new venture, were lost as she had stared, quite lost, into the flames of the fireplace.

Near enough vanished were her thoughts to push at the once suffocating confines of her jail. In fact, on the odd occasion, she had even peaceably discussed the weather with her brother. For some obscure reason, her world was turning in the most unexpected direction for the simple pleasure of finding her shadow once more.

Of course practically speaking the object of her search wasn't without flaws, to Livia's mind it was terrible enough that he was so obviously entrenched in part of the social groups which her brother favoured. Worse, she was forced to consider that he might even share the same desire to be linked with the oldest secular hierarchy that revolved around the Kostova name.

Livia may of declined to participate in the social hierarchy that interwove its mechanisms so tightly amongst the oldest families, but she was far from ignorant.

The Kostova name had been brandished a time or two in her presence with a considerable measure of respect that she had often viewed with equal parts of interest and disdain. The former because there were few things regarded higher than a _Vandersteine, _and then the latter because a mere name did not make a man.

_Whatever his social aspirations, you certainly didn't think twice on the floor of the study_, said a small mocking voice in her head.

She growled surprisingly low in her throat at the contradictory argument and got up to pace in an agitated fashion closer and closer to the patio doors in the vain hope of losing track of all conscious thought, but it was never to be.

Unfortunately, Livia's mind continued in its obsessive torment in much the same way it had for a number of days. Time when she should have been more concerned with the sale of the Liberté name and more, but was she?

No, quite out of character she had continuously lost sleep over a man who had taken questionable advantage by daring to kiss her in her own home and then promptly not sought out her company for the next few days. The feeling of abandonment was suspiciously enough for a normally confident woman to question her appeal.

After all, Livia was attractive and wealthy so why had Kristos not bothered to make a meal of his attraction?

_He probably thought me as shameless as my reputation_, she thought to herself. _Good for amusement - the long haul need not apply._

In a show of uncharacteristic dismay, Livia's shoulders dropped a little as she went to tightly curl herself into a chair from where she could look out at the rain. Tucking the soft cotton around her rump, she allowed the stretched neck of the tee to bare a pale shoulder.

"As brazen as my whole family believe, or _believed_, me to be," Livia said with a grimace at the correction of tense.

Her eyes unhelpfully drifted to the picture of her late mother which sat next to the digital clock. It had apparently been taken many moons ago when Catherine might have been the same age as Livia was now, but staring at her mother's wide golden smile and red hair that whipped about in the frozen breeze, she couldn't help but wonder what would she have said?

What advice would she have given her daughter?

A mostly silent matriarch that maneuvered best in unsuspecting waters, Catherine had always been the calm voice of reason in her household. Especially beloved by her daughter for that very ability, it was with a wistful smile that Livia turned to rest her cheek on the fine material of the grey jacket.

Innocently, it rested across the back of the chair as the lulling scent of rain, leather and man nudged the very edge of her senses, providing a balm as other memories surfaced.

There had been plenty of men who had been more than willing to charm Livia Vandersteine from London to New York. With a figure that was advertised far and wide by glossy covers there had been no shortage, all had been different. Wealthy, poor, ugly and handsome.

It had never particularly mattered, but more importantly, none had succeeded in capturing her interest for very long.

Turning her head to stare at the shadows again, her hair gently tumbled down the side of her neck as she considered them all with the discerning eye of hindsight.

None had made a lasting impression upon her. To begin with she had been too sheltered to want to play their games, then later she had been consumed by an aggressive ambition without the time for romance, but then when even that had waned - something invisible had always held her back.

Rightly so in many ways as the men in her life were often proven to have been greedy, selfish or simply too aggressive for her liking. Their list of respective faults had always grown rather than diminished with each specimen she had acquired and then discarded.

Eventually, she had given up searching for what she saw so clearly in her friend's match.

As a result it had not taken long for Livia to seemingly live her frozen veneer that the camera had often come to love and hate all at the same time. Labeled as _aloof,_ and supposedly above them all, it had worked wonders to keep others out of her business at least.

Indeed, she couldn't complain that it had been overly negative living with such a label since it had lent her the "_tousled, but unattainable look,"_ as one photographer had cheerfully put it. A look which had granted her many lucrative contracts as a face for one exclusive brand after another.

_Modeling, wasn't that a little trial in Hell itself?_

But before her mind could entirely venture back into the territory of lies, deceit and constant hunger, she took a moment to consider the current image of _Livia Vandersteine _which the rest of the world took for granted.

Glamorous, elegant… _Alone._

"The successful ice-gypsy. How ironic," Livia murmured to herself. "What's that word to describe the irony? Like when Romeo described his love as _cold-fire_?"

She drew her fingertips to her temples in an attempt to remember, but the thought was lost as she turned to contemplate how ridiculous she was to even question an empty room in the early hours of the morning.

"Well, whatever it is. It's not the truth," she sighed softly.

Despite her utter defiance in the face of her brother's requests over the years, his message had permeated the rumored icicles to reach her heart. She had been desperately alone in her little world of glamour.

What woman didn't want to be loved and eventually care for a family - her _own_ family?

What would have been the point of working so hard?

_What had been the point of working so hard?_

Over the last year Livia had noticeably retreated more and more into her Chelsea residence, content to make comments on her ventures from afar. There had been routine appearances, but she had become bored with the twinkling lights and hungered for something that she couldn't as yet describe. In the end, she'd finally, if disastrously, tried to satisfy her restless nature with James Williamson.

With good intentions she had desperately tried to settle herself with an Englishman and if the idea had made her father turn in his patriotic grave then, well, she hoped that by encouraging a marriage in any form had made up for it.

James had been from a line of impoverished blue bloods after all - what more could her dear father have asked for?

Livia Vandersteine would have married as the virginal bride in a large protestant church, given up her portfolio to her husband without question and then disappeared to live in a large rambling manor house to presumably behave as a good heifer should.

Yes, the peered James was a fine blue blood to have equally fine blue blooded children with and it all but showed in how he had bored her to death. In earnest she had sampled his kisses, but found them uninspiring in the extreme, despite his zealous advances that usually ended in an uncomfortable exit.

His favoured line, usually after one of her many polite brush offs, had always been a sneered comment regarding her rumoured frigidity. With a calm that surprised her, Livia could recall his smile that was the opposite of friendly as he'd said it.

"_Beauty doesn't always set the sheets ablaze apparently."_

Was that the reason why she hadn't seen Kristos since?

With the memory of her growing obsession fresh in her mind, a kiss from James had been nothing like the flare of desire she had felt in the study for Kristos. Her eyes softened with the glaze of passion in the dim light as she remembered the sheer hunger he had communicated to her by touch alone - it had been infectious and her instinct had been glad join him.

In the rain accompanied quiet Livia's quite sudden laughter rang out gently with traces of genuine amusement.

"Again, the irony - the first man I like takes me for the frigid-whore my image portrays."

Settled with a sound of resignation as she pigeonholed her shadow, Livia tried not to let the depressing thought weigh her down even though an ache registered sharply in the vicinity of her chest.

After all, if she didn't see him again then maybe it was for the very best.

_Isn't it?_

She stood and walked to stand before her patio doors, grasping the key she unlocked the door and pushed them both wide open to reveal the private terrace beyond. In the dark gloom she could make out the terracotta tiles and the old, heavy potted plants that grew outside.

The moon was hanging low as it flitted in and out of sight as the heavy rain clouds passed over it in the ink black sky. It caused the grounds around the house to take on a living glow at every opportunity as the patches of poor light shifted here and there in the falling rain.

Of course that wet element had immediately made its presence known as a cool wind blew around her legs and brought a sideways pelt of rain, but Livia never flinched in surprise at the cold. Instead, a smile spread across her soft features as she welcomed the wet weather and allowed it to soak her, and parts of her carpet, to the bone.

It was beautiful in the light of the darkened moon and the joy caused her body to thrum with a suppressed energy that radiated warmth right into the cold air that she failed to register. For Livia, the night was far too precious to waste in regret.

What did it matter if her shadow had really abandoned her?

There would be others in time, life had taught her that much at least - even _if _it would be for what they could gain rather than have.

Without a second thought she turned from open patio doors to briefly snag a canvas bag that sat to one side. It was packed with a large towel that she would find useful on her return, but daringly only half of the two piece contained within the bag made it onto her body beneath her over sized tee.

Disliking the delay a need for shoes would cause and finding an umbrella counter-intuitive, she made off in a rush out of her patio doors and predictably towards the heated pool without a thought for her apparent safety. It only briefly crossed her mind that she would prefer not to be caught out this time, but the reasonable unlikelihood put her misgivings to rest.

The rain soaked grass was heaven beneath her bare feet as she turned her face to the sky for the rain to kiss her thoughts away. Careful where she tread, and filled with renewed enthusiasm, Livia blissfully trailed closer to her destination and absently reflected that an early morning burst of exercise to exorcise her demons should do the trick.

It sometimes did at least.

Unseen and unsuspected, the shadowed figured watched her make her way through the gardens all the while contemplating what he had learned from her. Not everything had been discerned of the jumbled emotions she projected, but enough on certain themes. He watched with a sort of fascination as she lightly made her way through the box hedges. It was as if a very trying water sprite had been deposited on earth simply to vex him.

Kristos had not meant to disturb her sleep upon his return, but his fixation with the woman he had not seen for days had got the better of him. So much so, that he had reached out unwittingly along their fledgling connection and needlessly woken her, just as she had called to him that other night.

The oversight had its benefits though, he had been originally disheartened to find her asleep in her bed rather than presenting him with an opportunity to engage with her, but unguarded, Livia had proven an insightful female. A little too pessimistic for his liking, but the information he had gleaned served to somewhat hearten his demon's cause.

Unnatural eyes flared with amber as they tracked her in the gloom until she rounded a bend to disappear completely from his physical sight. It was only when his target vanished that he blinked once and then promptly disappeared into thin air to continue the pursuit.

Inherently, Livia's mental dismissal of Kristos' pursuit had irked him. It was a rare occurrence that an individual of his circle did not recognise the position he held, but she was uninitiated and subsequently did not flavour her thoughts with the caution he had always taken for granted.

As was preordained by his nature, with little effort Kristos materialised to haunt the edge of the pool.

His usually handsome features darkened in her direction as she went about her tasks, every bit as oblivious to his presence as she was concerned with the pleasure of being out in the rain. He watched as she raised her face to the sky and took an odd satisfaction in the cold touch of the rain yet again.

Whilst the thoughts he had gleaned had proven to be interesting enough, Kristos had certainly not liked all of what he had learned and he most definitely did not appreciate his gloriously ignorant and errant bride-to-be skulking across the dark gardens for the sake of a swim in the rain. The odd habit was starting to draw a line of worry across his brow, it was far too cold an activity for a fragile mortal to indulge in - especially at the time _she_ should have been resting.

Their night was usually her mortal day, but Kristos had declared otherwise to them all so not to startle her more than was strictly necessary. At his word alone the entire household, and more, had been put under a mortal spell. Even now, as he was out following, pandering to Livia's odd behaviour, the other creatures of the night were gathered silently behind closed doors in the house.

_Although, she is clearly quite happy in the dark_, he silently mused.

But even Kristos' amusement at her repeated enjoyment of the outdoors did not stem his original annoyance.

_That she would think I would be taken in by idle gossip?_

He walked closer in complete silence and then stood with a view of her back.

_What does she take me for?_

With those eyes, Kristos regarded Livia as she gingerly lowered herself to the edge of the water. Almost tentatively she lowered each of her feet over the edge of the pool towards the blue water and then gave a long sigh of enjoyment as the warmth came into contact with her cold extremities from toes to calves.

Despite grasping at his irritation with a need to lay down the law of his character, there was no denying the direction in which his thoughts began to drift as she reached with both hands for the bottom edge of the wet tee and then slowly dragged it up and over her head. It peeled away to bare the naked contours of her back and lower, but there was one trait in particular that caught his eye above all else.

_Red_.

The minor salute to clothed decorum was cut high allowing an ample view of her rump, but whilst Kristos appreciated the tantalising view, it was the colour that invigorated his demon. A bright red that provided a striking contrast to her skin which paled in the poor light of the moon.

_Would her lips look as enticing drawing blood?_

Kristos wallowed in his exotic musings for an instant longer as he watched the mist of rain continue to fall and slide down the curve of her spine. He wanted her to turn for him, to feel his presence as he did her own and then slowly turn to him with a come hither glance over a coy shoulder.

It would be all that it would take to lift the heavy mantle of responsibility from his shoulders, if only for the finite time in her company.

But it was not to be as Livia continued to seemingly swirl the warm water around her feet and calves - dangerously close to wallowing once more in her own fashion.

_I still stand by my original conclusion that women are stupid creatures_, Kristos thought with some acid as a snippet of her turmoil reached him. _She sits there whiling away her time with unfounded thoughts and concludes nothing accurate, or logical._

As if in response to his caustic line of observation, the rain fell a little harder for a few moments to parallel his emotions and at the sure sign, Kristos was forced to take a long, deep inhale before he looked skyward for patience. Inexplicably, he could famously manage the most difficult individuals whilst holding Council, but not his trying water sprite it seemed.

Of course, Livia remained lost to her musings, unaware of his predicament, as she reached out to the side, towards her heavy canvas bag, and unknowingly bared the generous rise of her breast. Backlit by the pool, her silhouette was clear and it had his demon rising once more in a clamouring of lust.

It was perhaps a fortunate occurrence that Livia would never know how lucky she was in being the object of his desire so late in his prolonged life. Kristos had learned patience, and he would use it with his trying sprite - for now.

Expectantly, she shivered slightly as she turned back and then lowered her entire form from her ledge into the pool. Down she went into the warm water completely on a little gasp at the overwhelming change in temperature that burned along her cold skin. It was with that small sound that Kristos softened his stance slightly.

He could not forget that Livia promised him much, she was an innocent in more ways than one - a perfect opposite for his extended longevity.

"And all together quite the beauty," Kristos said under his breath and proceeded to change location once more.

This time he materialised further away with a large black umbrella held in one hand. He saw no reason to be wet, but would field a query at a time. At the metal gate he turned to deliberately slam it shut.

As anticipated, Livia's attention darted towards him as the loud _clang_ made itself known.

Perfectly dry under the umbrella he strolled in her direction.

Livia heard the gate herald an intruder and immediately halted her strokes through the warm water to watch the cause of her torment casually walk towards her bearing an undefined look. Through the fine gauze of rain his features should have been hard to discern, but her traitorous heart recognised him in an instant as it beat faster.

"What a pleasure to find my water sprite here," he said and came to stand over the wet pile of her tee and the sodden canvas bag.

There was an edge to his voice and a gleam in his eye that she didn't know how to place, so Livia wisely made no comment.

"Is the water warm?"

He tried again to engage her in conversation, but Livia was weary of him.

Primarily, she was angry that he had left her for so long without an explanation, but she also noted how strangely immaculate he looked despite the poor weather conditions and the absurd time of day. Kristos looked… _Spotless_ and noticeably, there was an even more pronounced air of the surreal about him tonight.

Logically, he should of at least had some form of damp around the edges of his leather shoes from the wet lawn, but there was nothing to be seen by her eyes. It bothered her, but Kristos seemed unperturbed as he continued to watch her with a growing flare in his eyes. As the time lengthened so did that strange attraction which saturated her senses.

Coaxing.

Pulling.

Drawing Livia away from her self-made vows of obstinacy.

When she remained guarded, unwilling to completely release her doubts, Kristos added, "I said it's nice to see you Livia."

"And why is that?"

He noted the underlying husk in her voice that betrayed her feelings at seeing him, but the message was clear. She did not regard his probing as law, if anything, Livia had merely answered him as if to appease a child certain of getting its own way.

Suppressing a small smile, Kristos regarded her for an instant and was a wise man to note that her earlier mood of insecurity had fled in favour of pride. It seemed easily accomplished at the surface for Livia, but did she really think that a little ice in her tone would make him dissipate as well?

He changed tack and admitted, "I have missed you over the last few days."

At the unexpected confession his dark eyes watched confusion travel across her features before she masked it with a dispassionate look. Rather than an endearing comment, she had expected his sharp tongue as a reprimand for her nightly activities just as her brother had gifted her with so often before.

To Livia's credit, she took it in her stride as was her due.

"Where have you been?"

"Council," he replied honestly.

"Council of what?"

"It's merely known as _Council _and has been since, well, a long time," he said. "I have a responsibility to see to it-"

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"I didn't think you would care-"

"Of course I would care, you _idiot_," she bit. "Or do you think I would let any man _maul_ me in my own home?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but swiftly turned away from him to dive beneath the water with a splash that communicated her dissatisfaction with his unthinking answer.

Quite at a loss, he watched Livia kick smoothly beneath the surface in an effort to complete her breathless laps of the quaint pool. Once, twice, she impressively returned and then departed without taking a breath.

The crashing droplets of rain marred the surface of the water as they fell down to earth, obscuring a crystal clear picture, but the illuminated pool still loyally cast back enough of an image of his water sprite as she ran from her thoughts, pushing herself harder. Even the most obtuse of characters could understand her ploy to ignore the man standing beside her wet clothing, but he remained persistent.

Kristos knew that she would fail long before he did, nothing had ever outlasted his brand of patience.

"Finished?"

His enquiry was soft as she broke the surface of the water some distance away to finally breathe in the cold valley air. With eyes closed she simply enjoyed the oxygen rich atmosphere as it cooled her blood, but unfortunately it did nothing to subdue her awareness of her lurking shadow.

Sharply, Livia turned to eye him at the newly pronounced sound of his footfall on the paving stones skirting closer towards her. As she changed direction to propel herself towards the ladder of the pool, so did he. Effortless, with one hand deeply seated in his pocket, he looked entirely too comfortable, too aware.

It lent a vulnerable quality to their interaction, made increasingly worse for Livia with only half of her swimwear apparel at hand, but as tentative as she felt, she also realised how pointless it was to delay the inevitable.

_What on earth was he doing wandering about at this time of night anyway?_

"Ah, but it is really quite early in the morning and not night at all," Kristos said out loud.

His tone was light, but his eyes were almost ferral as he watched her reach the foot of the steps - as if his wildness was in a direct correlation to his lust. Despite the water, it was clear he missed nothing of her predominantly bare form.

"Rather acceptable to be out and about before the day begins," he started. "But then again, I didn't find anything worthwhile to keep me in my bed - nothing like a water sprite to tempt a man to walk the grounds before dawn, h'm?"

Kristos regarded her closely and sensed her slight shock at his words. Not because she was repulsed by the clear invitation, but because Livia was certain he had read her mind.

Taken the thought directly from her head.

Indeed, he knew the symptoms well, she would be questioning whether she had or had not voiced the thought out loud now. He didn't doubt that she would arrive at the conclusion that it was merely a coincidence. Not that it mattered either way, the sooner she found out then the better it would be for all of them.

"Anything the matter, Livia?"

"If I didn't know better I would say that you were reading my thoughts," she foreseeably responded in clipped English tones.

Her blue eyes were arresting as she watched him walk a little closer to stand at the very top of her only, semi-gracious, escape route out of the pool.

"It's a bit late to be acting the prim and proper rose," he countered in response to her tone as she caught hold of the rail to pull herself from the water.

Ignoring his words, Livia had bluntly decided she could manage well enough with an arm strategically placed over her chest whilst the other hand would grab at the rail in order to exit the water. Believing it would only take an instant to then snatch her towel from the bag and make her getaway, she was proven wrong almost immediately.

Halfway up the steep steps, Kristos reached down to securely wrap one hand around her forearm and then pulled her completely out of the water to stand beside him in an instant.

A little dazed by his enormous display of strength, Livia said little when he ordered her to hold the menacing black umbrella above them both with her free hand as he leaned down to only then return to whip her own towel around her wet shoulders. Amused by his request for the umbrella when she was already dripping with water, she allowed it all the same.

She had incorrectly assumed that it would be the end of his interference, but it was really only the beginning. Her pupils widened a little further as Kristos pulled her much closer into the strong circle of his arms, the umbrella handle crushed between them in her one hand.

"If it wasn't approaching winter, I'd be far less of a gentleman considering the temptation you present," he told her. "At _every _opportunity you deliberately find."

"The water isn't that cold at night-"

"Then should I assume its my touch causing those delicate shivers?"

Kristos gently pulled her wet hair from beneath the towel to hang down her back in a show of care, but she said nothing in response to his actions or words. Instead, she huffed daintily and then bowed her head slightly to look upon the neat row buttons on his shirt.

It was black this time, carelessly loosened at the throat once more. Not for the first time, she thought he seemed to have the appearance of man just escaping from the suffocating confines of a board meeting - a man with distinctly more than average abilities.

"Livia?"

Unnecessarily, he turned her away from the temptation of the pool as if she might disappear right back into the water before his larger hands then slipped beneath the edge of her towel to skim the flesh at the small of her back. Above the line of the red material the alternating pressure of his fingertips tantalised the fine muscles beneath her skin, but still, she didn't voice her thoughts out loud.

In a realisation that should have alarmed her more than it did, Livia came to appreciate that her arresting shadow was not all that he seemed to be and it had little to do with her imagination.

The punctuating sound of the rain falling on the umbrella created a soft echo all around them as the object of her recent fascination was, finally, so very close that she could feel the resounding beat of his heart whilst his scent lulled her beneath the strong chlorine.

Slowly, she raised her gaze to his face and, even with the odd light from the pool's glow at his back, she could make out the startling depth of his amber eyes which almost glowed as they watched her intently, gauging her reaction. Neat and dark, but not overly so, she continued her perusal along the line of his hair which struck her as a rich chocolate that somehow managed to contrast sharply with the pallor of his skin without appearing strange.

Of course, Livia had seen many men of profound looks in her time, but it was the faintest hue of sombre reality in those eyes which kept drawing her in, denying her the ability to ignore him. They were of a darker shade, one that drove her own, unknown, well of desire to overflow for this man with his strange eccentricities, but more than that, it sparked a stronger need to also provide him with a comforting warmth from whatever weighed so heavily upon his soul.

Even stood with her arms aching from the punishing laps which she had driven herself to, just to avoid the stranger ache in her chest, it was lunacy at worst, fantastical at best, but no matter what her mind said - she was still, surely, slowly, melting all at once from his slightest touch.

How was it even possible?

Ever practical, she should have chosen to rage at him for being the idiot she named him. Walk away from the troubling nuances in his physical form, but she couldn't have moved away from him in that moment, not even if her very life depended on it.

The net had closed over.

Instead, Livia settled with words over impossible action.

"What are you?"

"A man at your feet," he replied with a small smile lighting his features.

"What are you, _really?_"

She resisted the urge to pout in annoyance at his diversion and patiently worded her query once more with a particular emphasis on the truth. Beneath her fingertips she felt the vibration of his voice begin in the depths of his chest as he spoke to her.

"Can you feel it then?"

He murmured his rhetoric in that rich voice that came close enough for her to feel the cool breath fan her warming skin. Enticingly he pulled her closer with the band of his arm at her back, heedless of his own attire, the flush press of her damp flesh against his form seemed to cause something remarkable to occur.

In much the same way his features had slightly altered during their trysts, Livia was entirely convinced his canines had become more pronounced, elongated even, as he spoke to her. Clearly enunciating his words, giving her every opportunity to spy the disturbing change.

"That small tug of warmth enticing us, one that will gradually turn us both into a single pillar of flame?"

When Kristos posed the lazy question in earnest this time, his hand gently rose to curl around the nape of Livia's neck before tilting her head back. Together they stood for a moment simply to allow him the pleasure of her unforgettable eyes.

Half veiled by her lashes at such an angle, they were eyes that had danced before him at Council when he had previously never known the meaning of a distraction. Tempted him to call an end to the cloying assembly sooner than ever before, regardless of any pressing matters that demanded his attention.

A devastating shade of cornflower blue - they carried a glaze of awe as she watched him and he knew she felt the pull as strongly as he.

"Sleep deprivation has interesting side effects," she whispered through moistened lips.

A tendril of her darkened hair clung to her cheek as she continued to look up at him.

"I don't believe the country air is as good as they-"

"What do you really want, Livia?"

Kristos felt the increased press of her smaller hand at his chest in response to his words and knew quite well that he was failing to hide the evidence of his bloodlust from her. Deliberately, he let her glimpse more and more of his demonic nature, but thrillingly Livia did not retreat.

Without fear clouding her lovely gaze, she became avidly centred on him as a whole and the words he coaxed her with.

"Would you like my touch?"

Her shadow's gaze traveled lower as his agile hand moved to trailed her body from the delicate architecture of her collarbone to the rise of her generous breast. Unable to speak, she only breathed her approval as her damp flesh quivered expectantly beneath the pads of his fingers.

"Perhaps, more than a kiss?"

It was the lightest, almost tentative, foray that helped to push aside her towel in order to capture the prize beneath. With her immediate inhale at the sensation of his hand enclosing one breast, she also gave a small sound of encouragement as he then slowly dragged the pad of his thumb across her pebbled nipple.

The dusky rose of her sensitive skin tightened further at the prolonged torment until she was forced to arch towards him, seeking his lips with her own, but he captured her neck in another hand to dissuade her of the notion.

Bent on an alternative path, Kristos lowered his head to gently bite along the line of her jaw, down to the graceful column of her neck, but Livia neatly twisted her head from his hold in order to take what she demanded. With the light of determination in her eyes, he drew back with concern flashing in his eyes.

"My little sprite, I do not trust myself not to cut you this time and then-"

"Talk _later_ Kristos," Livia breathlessly cut him off and used her free hand to yank him to her by the collar of his shirt.

In the face of his paltry resistance she kissed him long and hard to the sound of a button or two falling to the stone ground beneath their feet. Heedless of his concern, Livia drowned in the welcome sensation of his drugging kiss which had played over and over in her mind for the last few days.

With vigour she did not allow him to gentle the contact, or refuse her an entire bounty, as her tongue slid between his lips to provoke tormenting thoughts of what else she might capture with such dexterity.

She felt the sharp presence of his altered features, but it was not enough to deter her. Safe in his hold, there was nothing that would move her.

"You talk far too much," Livia breathed between small nips of his jaw as she allowed them to breathe.

"Do I?"

"Like a woman shadow-man," she replied with a smile and then allowed him to capture her free hand.

Removing it from his ruined shirt collar, Kristos interlaced his fingers with hers, as much to hold her to him as to please her. The playful glint in her eye soothingly bathed his tired soul as he held her hand to his heart.

Indeed, there was much promised with Livia Vandersteine.

"Are you going to take advantage of me, or are you going to look at me all night?"

"You're not afraid?"

"Kristos," Livia started, but then stopped to relinquish his umbrella to the ground.

Unprotected from the rain Livia also slipped the towel from her shoulders and threw it to join the upturned umbrella. With both of her hands she then stepped back towards his immobile figure and slid her palms up, over the fabric of his shirt, to wrap around his neck and then drew him sharply down to her level.

At her mercy, Kristos had no option but to cooperate as his eyes dipped low to glance in the direction of her remaining clothing.

"Look at me for moment," she encouraged and brought one hand forward to tilt his chin at the correct angle.

With a becoming smile playing across his features, Kristos did as he was bid by the small woman before him, his larger frame becoming pliant for her.

"I want you for some ghastly, inexplicable reason," Livia paused just for effect and then added, "_badly_."

At last word he placed both hands on her hips and then knowingly trailed his hands down over her pert derrière as the rain lubricated his touch.

"Better," Livia purred her approval as her own arms relaxed to wrap around his middle.

"Ravishing actually," Kristos murmured as his kisses found the corner of her heart-shaped mouth.

He nearly devoured her whole in the rain as she gave him her body with such a trusting abandon, without a promise for the outcome. It was the feel of his demon's pleasure vibrating so strongly at her acceptance that had him fiercely tangle a hand in her hair and almost, but not quite, lose control.

Of course, Livia responded in his arms without a second thought for any imagined danger as he increased in his ministrations - her body softening to mould against his tower of strength.

"Livia," Kristos murmured as he breathed in her intoxicating scent of arousal.

It was permeating and dissolving the foundations of all his plans where she was concerned. He intended to marry this woman, bind her to both the demon and the man in all ways, and like everything not done by his father before him, Kristos would go about it the right way.

To him, it was about a maintenance of control, about not losing his composure with his unwitting intended under the onslaught of a cold autumnal shower - no matter the strength of their combined desires.

In a show of famed control, Kristos successfully triumphed over his emotions - a little too well for his audience.

"My dear," he breathed close to her face and gently, but persistently, unwound her arms from around his neck.

At the action, his withdrawal from their play was immediate, conveyed even by his expression, though he did press the lightest of kisses to the tips of her fingers in recompense. However, he was still wily enough to maintain a grip on his intended as the tidal wave of her emotions nearly swamped them both.

Unlike Kristos, Livia struggled to regain her momentum as easily in the lust induced haze of her mind, but as she emerged from the fog she felt the sting of natural resentment flavoured with a hefty dose of humiliation.

For a moment Livia thought that she must have lost all trace of grounded sense because why, _why,_ after all of her good intentions to steer clear of the man had she found herself begging him to take her in the driving rain?

With downcast eyes, Livia took a step backwards and went to pull her hands from his grip at the same time, but Kristos held fast.

Between her change in posture and the wave of feelings that crashed around him, it was painfully obvious in which direction her thoughts had drifted. There was no need for their connection to shudder the way it did in order for him understand her stance. Just as her earlier musings had displeased him, so did her current lack of faith.

"Don't even think of running from me with that mind of yours thinking all manner of _ridiculous _thoughts," he threw at her with a sudden anger in his eyes.

Livia stiffened instantaneously at the comment, but equally bit, "Ridiculous? Perhaps, you'd like to join my brother to list out any further flaws?"

"Don't put me in the same category as-"

"Go ahead and try your luck with me for a bit of entertainment, but _don't_ think you can start dictating my behaviour!"

Livia pulled a little harder to free her captured wrists, but Kristos merely pulled her more forcibly towards his chest with every yank until she landed back against him with a final feminine snarl and an icy glare to match.

"If all I wanted was a roll in the hay then I would've found an individual with much less baggage," he tipped acid on her already raw wound.

"Then what the hell do you want?"

Nearly as fierce as an Erinyes he had once met, Livia was igniting much more than his lust as she remained hauled against him in the rain with her hair slithering down over her naked back and the bounty of her breasts heaving with a brittle anger.

"Go on, tell me what _do_ you want?"

"Obviously your money, you stupid wench," Kristos spat with his frustration at her growing audacity.

"Oh poor baby, don't tell me you're another impoverished blue blood-"

"How _dare_ you be so very shallow to my face," he stood glowering at her with as much menace as her father had tried to enforce. "Your ignorance is shocking, astounding even."

It was Kristos' natural air of born leadership that amplified his dissatisfaction with her taunt, but rather than a positive attribute, it struck long, painful notes with his intended as she blanched with distressed anger.

Unfortunately used to a different kind of behaviour, Kristos was blind to it for the time being.

"Such nonsensical thoughts stew in that clever brain of yours, like imagining yourself a whore, that money is all I would want you for-"

"Get _off!_"

Livia couldn't bear to hear anymore and tugged with all her might at his restraining hands.

"Say please little princess because I'd enjoy it, relish you begging yet again," he said to her and Livia swore she saw a gleam of something disturbing pass over his eyes.

Coupled with the sight of his invoked features that had not lessened in the slightest, the faded veneer of man gave way to something which perpetually lurked beneath the surface, something that was stronger than she, but ultimately, something that did nothing to limit his dastardly appeal.

Livia wanted her freedom all the more.

"You've made your _point_ perfectly clear, let me go so I can leave-"

"I'm going to marry you Livia," Kristos cut directly, without apology he stated the root cause of his behaviour and then watched a frightening stillness enter her being.

The words held more power than he first realised as they washed the anger from her face to replace it with pure shock. Obviously, it had been the very last thing that Livia had expected him to say as she remained mute, but something churned deeply in her emotive eyes if one looked hard enough.

Unfortunately, his perceptive sight remained affected as the high of anger had not completely abated as yet. The frustration at what was so ingrained in him, but a new idea to her - grated.

"All these years you have been yearning for something that only I can give you," he strived for simplicity and deliberately gentled the grasp on her hands despite his tone. "No one else will create this, _no one._"

Immobile, she tracked the moment of his lips as he continued, "I can make you ache with so much Livia, I can give you so much more-"

"Marriage?"

Her voice tentatively scratched out the word, but she still refused to meet his gaze. In fact, it had dropped lower to the once neat row of buttons at his shirt. Out of direct sight, her downcast eyes hid her intent well.

"Yes, you know it's my offer or no other-"

"_Like hell_," Livia suddenly bit directly as she simultaneously pushed against his chest with all of her might.

So used to compliance and obedience, Kristos was taken off guard by the surprising action and, in a similar manner to before, he was easily toppled backwards to land straight in the warm water of the pool.

He caused an almighty splash as he hit the surface and then rose smoothly through the water on a rough inhale and a shake of his head. The excess droplets went flying in opposite directions as he remained buoyant with a keen eye focused on the cause of such mischief.

With the sound of the rain falling around him, Kristos waited for her next bout of words.

"Don't look at me like _that!_"

Livia maintained her arms folded over her breasts in a pose that spoke of her disdain for his earlier words and secondly, because it protected what was left of her modesty.

When he said nothing, she leaned closer towards the edge and added, "Like I should be bloody grateful! Is that the general standard of proposal I should expect since I'm so far _gone_?"

Livia looked away from him and down at the towel that would do little good now that it was just as wet as he was. It briefly crossed her mind to take her things and go, but that would require giving him a show which he had already proven himself unworthy of.

She dragged in fortifying breath before turning back to him, "When and _if _I seek forgiveness for my imagined crimes it won't be from you!"

"My dear," he tried to interrupt her in a surprisingly calm manner.

"I am not your _dear!_ I'm not your-"

Without further ado a seemingly invisible force nudged her forward and caused her to lose her balance so that she too toppled, without grace, into the pool.

Pushing up from the bottom, Livia broke the surface of the water on a shocked gasp of air as she back-pedaled away from him with some haste. Of course, she was no match for him in the endeavour. It didn't seem to suit his plans to have her so far away from him, so with every inch of distance she gained, Kristos decreased it instantly.

Livia was forced to accept his close proximity as he regarded her devilishly in the water. She had expected him to be angry, but her supposed suitor showed little sign of it now. Most pressingly, she was somewhat speechless for the moment.

_If only he didn't look so good with that black shirt outlining all that_…

His throaty chuckle brought her back to reality as his arms reached to circle her lithe figure. She felt the drag of wet clothing against her bare skin, but didn't shy away from him as he pulled her closer.

"You should see what's underneath the shirt," he said and encouraged her to tilt her head as he nipped at the sensitive spot below her ear. "You will be more than please my troublesome sprite."

Livia closed her eyes at the rumbled words as she lifted her face to the night and accepted his touch for a moment before she dared to ask, "There's something amiss here, isn't there?"

He made no comment in response to her query, merely continued in his pastime, so she deliberately removed her neck from his easy reach as an incentive to answer. At the same time, she also used his broad shoulders as a platform for leverage in order to wrap her legs loosely around his waist.

With his body as her personal anchor, Livia first felt a curious sense of disappointment reach her which was very quickly surpassed by a male sense of satisfaction - neither of which were her own.

Only a snippet of emotion, but something that existed as a strangely tangible take on his thoughts.

Curious, she leaned back further and surveyed him with an unreadable expression to find him equally watching her. As the earlier events clicked into place, she took a leap of faith in what her instinct demanded and in turn, tried her damnedest to place a mental wall around her inner most thoughts.

It took an effort to maintain the defence, but she did it.

"Tell me the truth," she asked again all the while exhibiting her new trick.

"Very clever Livia," he replied in low tones peppered with praise.

At the words she felt a swell of pleasure rise within her and she saw no reason to contain the sentiment as she smiled at him.

"Now that you've learned that small trick, I shall have to work extra hard at trying to decipher that puzzling mind of yours," Kristos added with traces of wry humour.

"You can read them-"

"I can hear them, there is a difference," he corrected her. "Subtle, but important."

"But if I build a wall you can't?"

For a moment, Kristos debated the brutality of the most truthful answer before he said quite honestly, "I could break your wall, but those are methods I never intend for you to know the details of."

"Oh."

"Don't sound so disappointed Livia, what we share is something a little different to the normal convention-"

"_Normal?_"

"Indeed, my mistrusting water sprite," he waited a heartbeat then added, "you see, we have something unlike any other."

"Oh," was all Livia said once more, but really she had yet to see the whole picture.

He slowly brought her to rest closer to him so that her arms trailed over his shoulders. So close that her bruised lips provided an ample temptation once more.

"I cannot think when we're this close," she protested, but made no move to increase the distance between them as he gently drifted with her in the warm water.

"Perhaps I don't want you to think-"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"_Why_ do you want to marry me," she expanded and then added, "_hypothetically_ speaking of course, because I sure as hell didn't hear a proposal. Merely an order come to think of it-"

"That's enough from you," he stated in tones of exasperation and then kissed her deeply with a hand in her hair.

It became apparent that whilst he had never considered himself an arrogant man, Kristos seemed to have reached the limit of his flaws being detailed by the all, but naked female in his arms who should have been preoccupied with other pursuits.

A female who apparently lived to taunt and tease the boundaries of his control with an uncomfortable ease.

But as her tongue tentatively met his invasion and she moaned deeply in her throat at the onslaught of desire, he gambled that his sprite might just remain peaceable for a little while longer under certain conditions. It was a new weapon that he would not be forgetting in the game of power anytime soon.

Drawing away with a gentle kiss to her swollen lips he said on the trail of an earlier conversation, "Perhaps, I find you an enigma-"

Hitched breathing aside, she shot back without a qualm, "I don't need to be lied to."

"The story to explain it all is a very long one. Much too long for the time we have now," he said amicably and glanced pointedly at the vague lightening of the sky.

Indeed, they had passed some time out in the poor weather as the night sky was gradually showing the telling signs of an impending dawn that would soon fail to break through the patches of rain cloud.

Drawn to a particular spot, Kristos gently kissed the side of her neck and added in a conversational tone, "Consider yourself proposed to Livia."

"Don't be ridiculous, I barely know you-"

"Ah, but our souls seem entwined for otherwise how could I have kissed you so thoroughly as no man has ever done before?"

He left the rhetorical question unanswered as he slowly waded with her in his arms to the shallows and gallantly allowed her to hide her growing blush at the few, but well chosen words.

When they were in the cold rain once more, Kristos granted her the freedom to slither from his hold, but stayed her further movements away with an invitation.

"Come with me to the opera and I might answer all of your questions."

"I'm busy-"

"Liar," he softly stated and then added, "come with me."

When Livia looked as though she would much rather break away from the temptation he presented, Kristos shamelessly employed his voice to greater effect.

"Come my water sprite, I promise I will not bite unless you really want me to and you do want to come, so don't deny yourself?"

Kristos only barely subdued his look of victory as he keenly watched her waiver between giving in to what she wanted and following a safer course, housed in bendable logic.

"What will we see?"

"Rusalka-"

He had only just issued the title when she released a husky peel of laughter.

"You really like the idea of a water nymph, don't you?"

"There is one in particular I am growing awfully attached to," he equally replied without a qualm.

"Perhaps I will go with you-"

"Ah, my dear you make my demonic soul glad," he said with a wide smile.

But before Livia could question him further, or stubbornly set the rules for their engagement, Kristos had reached to draw her against him once more and then promptly chased away all manner of rationale thought with the oldest method known to man.

Not once did she shy away.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"_to the recollection of good memories"_

"Greta," Livia said warmly as she entered the kitchen.

Her heels rapped out from the stone floor as she rounded a rather large oak work bench to hug the older woman as an uncontrollable sense of déjà vu swept over her. It was the smell of peppermint that transported her back more years than she was prepared to count.

The older woman gave a small sound of surprise at her welcome guest and returned Livia's easy embrace with affection.

Greta seemed as frail as a bird beneath Livia's hands, but she had inhabited the kitchen of Hunter's Fall for many years without fail. Not once had Livia ever thought to question how the older woman managed to retain her elegant looks, but retain them she did.

"It smells absolutely divine," she added whilst unconsciously falling back into the rhythm of her childhood.

She remembered quite clearly how her first lessons in cookery had been at this patient woman's elbow. From burned raisins to lumpy batters, Greta had been remarkable in the quality and amount of time she had willingly given over to Livia in order to make a fine baker of her.

With the smell of warm cinnamon rolls filling the large room as the murky light of morning gently streamed through the film stencilled windows, Livia called the recipe to mind immediately - it was a favourite in New York.

She reluctantly released Greta and crossed to the other side of the bench in order to take a seat upon a stool to watch a master at work. It didn't take long for the current project to be completed and the surface of the table to be wiped down in clean, efficient movements.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"I had a cereal bar," Livia replied and fully expected the snort that was issued thereafter.

The younger woman relaxed further upon her stool, idly hooking her heels over the bars, as Greta turned to the tray warmer and retrieved a fresh cinnamon roll just for her. To the small plate she also added a small pot of butter.

"Eat," the older woman pressed Livia to do as she was bid, but at the hesitant look that subsequently filled her eyes she also said, "you can't live on just anything in my kitchen."

"I've had plenty from your kitchen, but I want to keep my current jean size-"

Another snort interrupted Livia's poor excuse.

"You're too thin as is, you need to eat properly - not those disgusting green shake-things I've seen in my fridge."

"Freshly juiced kale, wheat grass, cauliflower, broccoli, carrot, apple, and lemon juice _actually_," replied Livia, proud that she could recall each ghastly ingredient.

"I can't think why you're punishing yourself like that, _this,_" she pointed a hand at Livia's general physique, "is much better than that clothes rack you attempted to be-"

"Greta, how do you know what I looked like?"

The other woman lifted a delicate eyebrow at Livia as if she should really know better, but at the genuine look of enquiry she went to the bookshelf in the corner of the large room and reached for a large file. It was next to others that usually contained all of her jealously guarded recipes, but this one was different.

The heavy file landed with a thud in front of Livia before she tentatively reached out to flick through the first plastic sleeves - they were extracted spreads of nearly all of her published images.

Coy pouts, famous brands of lingerie and a much younger Livia Vandersteine stared defiantly back at her from every page.

"I can't believe father even allowed you to keep this?"

"You were never disowned Livia, your mother missed you plenty and there would be hell to pay if Dmitri had even thought of interfering with the correspondence that she regularly ordered," Greta firmly corrected her once young charge.

At a loss for how to respond, Livia traced a particular image she had been part of, decadently she had worn a jewelled bustier set as she lay across a barren stretch of Route 66 at twilight. It was a gorgeous image as a banner of blue gauze had just caught the wind at her heeled feet and then fluttered freely up towards the distant sky.

"Yes, well, I'm not sure I believe you," she finally said, but there was enough of a crack in her tone to lessen any perceived spite.

_So much hurt, if only Dmitri had been more patient with the child_, Greta silently mused.

The older woman could feel the mixed emotions pouring off Livia as she stared at the image from an entire world away. Of course, her emotions had been vacillating two and from from the moment her elder sibling had forced her home, but despite the hesitancy Livia displayed this morning - Greta was pleased at the current developments she saw just beneath the surface.

Livia closed the large file with an audible snap when she finally noticed Greta had moved on to another task. Shelling green peas. The fresh snap of a pod breaking open drew her attention as she held back a small yawn. She gave a little sigh too for good measure.

"Eat," Greta repeated.

"Well, three meals a day is a little extravagant, but why not - I'm too _old_ for the catwalk these days."

"Oh, for pity's sake," Greta said and turned from the peas. "Enjoy what God gave you child instead of attempting to change it - with a bust like that you were never going to parade for Chanel."

Livia didn't dare to contradict the other woman and merely broke open the warm roll to spread creamy butter on the soft centre. On a pleasurable sigh she took her first bite with Greta's next words coming to ring in her ears.

"Besides, it seems such assets are greatly appreciated by some of the men around her."

Livia worked hard to contain the urge to choke on the tasty morsel at such words. It was delivered casually enough, so much so that she dare not enquire further as to the specific meaning. After all, there was no chance that Greta knew anything about the morning she had experienced - could she?

When Greta said nothing further, Livia took a safer bite of the bun and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before taking a different line of tact.

"I do believe Marc is keeping me prisoner here-"

"You cannot be a prisoner in your own home," calmly replied Greta.

"So," she paused, "there would be nothing wrong with me leaving the grounds today?"

"Stop fishing Livia-"

"I'm not fishing," she smiled innocently. "I'm _baiting_ you. I want to see if you can still scare cook away like you used to. With just a look."

"I would never do such a thing-"

"You remember, like when she failed to get out of bed on time after a night with the brandy bottle-"

"Well," Greta interjected sharply. "The wonders of London have certainly not improved your tongue."

She picked up the half filled bowl of peas and popped them to the side before turning on a grinning Livia. It was good to see her beloved Livia smiling in the kitchen once more. Good to know that she was likely home to stay if all went well.

"Greta, I don't think _anything_ could do that," Livia cheekily pointed out.

"Agreed, its only taught you further bad manners," sagely retorted her companion.

"Meaning?"

With a suddenly weary air, Livia pushed the half eaten remains of her bun to one side and neatly folded her hands upon her lap with a look of planned innocence. There was just the beginning of a tell-tale blush across her fine cheekbones.

"Nothing, only that it was curious the way you started yelling at a certain man in the early hours of this morning-"

"Greta you _spy!_ What did you overhear?"

Livia's hands immediately braced against the kitchen table as her worst fears were confirmed - Greta knew plenty that she would only reveal in her own sweet time.

"Oh calm and shush. You think there is anything that I haven't heard… Or seen before?"

"_Seen?_"

Livia's voice reached a pitch so high that she merely squeaked the question as she paled significantly in the morning light.

"Oh Livia, I shielded my eyes and prayed the thunder would drown anything out-"

"_Greta!_"

"I have to say, you could do far worse and I think he definitely appreciated your-"

"Please don't say _assets_," Livia closed her eyes with mortification.

"Command of the spoken word is what I was going to say," she finished.

"Of course you were," sarcastically supplied Livia.

"For such a bright child you are still remarkably defensive."

Greta took another bowl to one of the large farmhouse sinks and returned with washed carrots to peel. It amused her that Livia did her best to bite back a denial at the statement.

"Which is _why_ it surprised me so to see you cavorting with a man like that down at the pool with the very heavens opening over your pretty head-"

"Oh God, how could you _spy _on me like that," Livia exclaimed with her head falling dramatically onto the worn surface of the wood.

"Don't be so dramatic my child, we must all fall victim to our basic instincts at one point or another," Greta advised with the benefit of her years.

"Then why, _why_ can I feel you smiling that satisfied grin without me even having to look at you Greta?"

It was a rather muffled response from Livia whose head remained downcast, the neatly brushed blond tendrils spilled over her arms and onto the table's surface with mortification evident in every line.

_Because it will be good to have you home again and under his protection, _mused the older woman. _A little fire can only help the inevitable._

"Greta."

"H'm," the older woman murmured.

"Tell me about him," Livia asked.

With a light swish of her hair, she turned her head to view the older woman from her place on the table, but when Greta only briefly paused in her task at the question before resuming her chore once more. She was forced to ask the question again.

"_Please_ tell me about him, Greta?"

"Who?"

"Kristos of course," easily replied Livia.

It was all Greta could do not to allow the shock of hearing his first name show across her features when it was uttered by her younger companion. Unaware of the surprise she had caused, Livia looked almost timid as she gave in to her curiosity in order to seek an answer to one of the many questions that plagued her.

Of course, Greta's shock had much to do with the observed protocol of their kind.

Livia's shadow had not been addressed by his given name in many, many years.

"He is from old family, obviously something you won't like," Greta hedged unsure of exactly how much she could impart.

"What family?"

"Kostova-"

"_The_ Kostova family?"

"Yes," Greta paused curiously as she regarded Livia. "You know the name?"

"I know Marc and father treated the name like some kind of royalty," she replied with some derision.

"Well-"

Before Greta could begin in earnest one of the household staff appeared at the door of the kitchen and coughed to interrupt her flow of words. Somewhat gratefully, she turned towards the intrusion.

He addressed Livia directly, "Madam, the cars have arrived."

"Thank you, I shall be right out."

"Cars?"

Greta looked at Livia with puzzlement.

"I'm going shopping today," replied Livia a little too cryptically.

"And you need a new car to do this? You know your brother keeps a driver on hand when it's needed."

"Ah, but not _my _kind of car Greta and no," she said and then raised a pointed finger in the other other woman's direction before adding, "don't you start looking at me like you're going to give me a sermon on fast cars, or my wasteful nature."

"And why shouldn't I? You're very important to me-"

"Because Greta, I saw that look of immense relief as we were interrupted. You didn't want to tell me anymore about _him,_" Livia said as she raised herself from the stool to stand on the floor beside it.

"Gosh, a _Kostova_ in the flesh - I'll be sure to pick up something ridiculously expensive if I'm going to the opera with him," she muttered.

"You're going out," Greta nearly choked on the next words, "_tonight,_ with him?"

"Maybe, I've let myself become fodder for the rumour mill haven't I?"

Greta remained silent for once knowing full well the opera was one of the main highlights of their kind's social calendar. It was promising that Livia was not balking at the idea of her unnatural fixation, but there was no telling how she would react tonight.

At the older woman's stricken look, Livia mistook it for a fear that she was leaving the grounds entirely and would not return.

She softened her tone and explained, "I'm just travelling to the capital today, I promise."

Greta's features relaxed slightly, but as Livia turned to the door she thought she heard her say, "_God help the others tonight._"

Not entirely promising to her ears, but not entirely pessimistic either.

Livia chose not to dwell on the last words she heard for too long as she left the kitchen with a spring in her step and headed up the stairs to the main hallway. She was dressed casually for her trip out in a warm grey sweater and blue skinny jeans, although her feet were encased in another extravagant pair of Jimmy Choos.

She had smoothly caught her hair in a loose ponytail that came to bounce on her shoulders as she quickened her pace for the last few steps out the main door.

Livia smiled warmly at the _Mr. Locket_ who bowed slightly as he greeted her - he recognised an enthusiast when he saw one.

"Mr Locket I presume," she said trying desperately to conceal her childish glee.

"Madam Vandersteine," he dipped his head again before continuing, "I trust you are well-"

"Very," she turned her gaze from him to the two vehicles which were loaded on a large lorry.

The large vehicle looked entirely out of place on the resplendent drive at Hunter's Fall, but Livia took little notice at what would have clearly irritated her brother. Her attention was all for the luxury sports cars awaiting her pick.

"I see you have brought me what I asked for too."

"Of course", he said patiently.

Mr Locket noted how, unlike his other customers, she made no effort to make him feel at home. It seemed she was more than happy to conduct business out in the bleak morning light. Her almost serene control was rather effortless as she drove the conversation for them both.

_Money, it can teach you anything, _he thought to himself.

He watched her walk out onto gravel to inspect the new vehicles from a distance.

"I take it you had no trouble with the navigation upgrade I requested?"

"GPS voice recognition as requested-"

"Good," she replied without looking at him and eyed the two identical DB9s with their two different colours - marron black and volcano red.

Mr Locket remained silent as his customer regarded the two vehicles, he knew there was nothing he could add that would hasten her decision. This surprising, but lucrative woman had been on the phone to him that very morning.

In fact, the early phone call had dragged him out of bed.

Apparently Livia Vandersteine had wanted a near enough replica of her DB9 which currently resided at an exclusive residence in London.

Apparently she simply '_could not wait' _to have the very same vehicle shipped out either.

_Or maybe she wanted two_, he thought to himself. _Well, at least she knows what she wants._

"Well done Mr Locket, it's exactly what I requested," she turned and purposefully strode to where she had left him on the steps. "I'll take the red one"

"And the funds-"

"Money sullies the ears something terrible, but since you ask the funds have been wired directly to your holdings in Switzerland," she eyed him for a moment before adding, "including a bonus for being so prompt."

"Madam Vandersteine," Mr Locket said with a smile threatening to crack his face in two. "You're too generous."

Suddenly, his early morning phone call was not such a terrible occurrence after all.

He went to add more, but she cut him short, "Have the vehicle moved onto the drive and leave the keys with my housekeeper. Understood?"

"Explicitly."

"Good," she said with another glance at the chosen car.

They were already starting to lower the tail gate of the lorry in order to lower her new toy to the gravel as she had requested. The fiery red was different to her normal, safer choice of silver, but she also had a shade of red lipstick to match and a man who seemed quite fond of the colour.

"Have a good day Mr Locket," Livia finished the conversation and walked back into the house to fetch a few items before she made for the capital.

In her room she collected a long red jacket and a handbag to cement the theme and then whistled cheerfully as she made her way through the empty house towards the kitchens again.

Wasting little time, Livia dashed along and found it oddly disturbing that even with so many _guests _in residence, the house remained as silent as a tomb during the daylight hours, but she shrugged off the thought. It mattered little to her as she preferred the night anyway.

_At least, it makes for more interesting company lately, _she thought.

Dropping down the few stairs into the kitchen she spied her prize and headed directly for it.

"Ah, brilliant," Livia said cheerfully as she swiped the keys off the wooden work table just as Greta turned to face her.

The older woman looked a little pale and Livia's gaze moved to take into account her brooding brother. He stood to one side with arms obstinately crossed over his chest and his teeth were in the process of being ground together - she was positive at the tightening of his jaw.

"Why so glum old chap?"

"Livia-"

"Stay out of this Greta," Marc snapped at the older woman.

The caustic, unthinking tone, sent a buzz of anger through Livia. There was no reason he had to play the tyrant with poor manners, but she said nothing and merely waited for his first comment to land before deciding on her mode of attack.

"Going out are we?"

"Well yes actually," she replied sweetly. "But as you can see I don't have all my belongings so cheer up as I thought I'd spend another week here before heading back to Chelsea brother-"

"You are not driving anywhere Livia! Give me the keys to that contraption you have parked outside-"

"It's commonly known as an Aston Martin DB-9, Marc, and I can assure you it is the least shameful car to be driving around in so I'm sure I won't be embarrassing you that way," she interrupted him with her most calm of voices.

"I'm not concerned over the image you portray, _sister_."

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, but stopped a few feet away.

"Where are you going?"

"Not to the airport?"

"Livia-"

"Not to the train station, or the bus station either?"

"_Livia!_"

She meanly contemplated throwing the bowl of carrot peel in his arrogant face, but Greta looked stricken with fright as it was. There was no choice, but to persevere in a calm manner of inviting irritation.

"_Yes,_ Marc?"

"Where are you going?"

Livia was about to give him another answer involving a ferry, but she caught the actual gleam of tears in poor of Greta's eyes this time. It would do no good having another one of their pointless fights to only upset the older woman, so she gritted her own teeth.

"I'm driving to the capital to do some shopping and hopefully having lunch before returning by five this evening, although that could turn into something later as you are delaying me with your _yelling_."

Marc had almost calmed with the first part of her explanation, but she had been unable to resist baiting him with the latter sentiment.

"Sister of mine, listen to me very carefully," he said quietly as he rested his hands on the table, "You are not. I repeat, _not_ going to go anywhere in that death trap."

Closer to him, Livia noticed the dark shadows beneath his eyes and was concerned for his welfare for a moment, but her good intentions were mostly ruined with his continued commands.

"_Nor_ are you gallivanting off to the city without an appropriate guide-"

His words were quickly interrupted by Livia's amused laughter. Rather than respond in spite, she decided to see the irony in her older brother attempting to baby a twenty-nine year old woman. She might have needed him ten years ago, but not now.

She walked around the wooden bench and took him by complete surprise as she reached out to wrap her arms around him in a diminutive bear hug.

"I love you Marc, but I _will_ kill you if you don't shut up," she said as a matter of fact.

Beneath her ear she heard him grumble something unpleasant, but it didn't deter her. Instead, Livia released him to reach up and clasp him around the ears. She pulled hard as she had done when she was twelve and brought him to her level.

With a kiss on his forehead she said, "Why don't you go and get some rest, you look terrible."

"Livia," he attempted again.

"Nope, not having it," she categorically stated with a pat to his cheek. "Go find Celeste, or whatever her name is, to put a smile on your face."

Sbe released him from her hold and then waited for him to give vent to at least one degrading comment.

Marc predictably fumed with intensity before he declared, "I don't know why he would want to put up with you!"

"_Who?_"

Livia declared her apparent naivety with wide seemingly innocent eyes.

"I don't know what you mean Marc," she added with a sly smile, pleased she would be getting the better of him.

On a polished pivot she turned from her brother towards Greta and kissed the older woman on the cheek before she added, "See you later Greta, I'll be sure to bring you something back."

With that she walked out of the house and straight to the waiting car.


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

"_to all things bright and beautiful"_

It was fast approaching ten in the morning by the time Livia had eased off the pedal and was headed due-south for the hustle and bustle of the capital via one of the main highways that criss-crossed the mountainous region.

She had, thankfully, headed out with little to no further trouble at all. It seemed that Marc had obviously not deemed it necessary to make another appearance after their disagreement in the kitchen, right in front of Greta. He had, rather surprisingly, failed to follow her out of the house.

_Was he finally allowing me a little leeway?_

Of course, her hands still tightened around the smooth leather of the wheel as her thoughts drifted back to his _moronic_ statements - as if _she_ was incapable of looking after herself. Worse, she had been less than pleased with his treatment of Greta.

She had intensely disliked his commanding tone.

_Lord of the Manor, my ass_, she thought privately.

It was moments like that which made Livia wish she had never been brought back home. After all, it was surely just as unbearable for her brother to torture himself over stupid things that they would never agree on - wasn't it?

_Or should I have more patience with Marc?_

Livia allowed the thought to hover in the privacy of her mind and, though it was difficult to admit, she was forced to conclude that both brother and sister could try a _little_ harder.

After all, there had been a time when her older sibling had been her champion in many things, at a time before he had reached the dizzying heights of manhood, and if he could now show leeway when she equally subdued her catty responses, then maybe there was hope yet.

As the car sped along the highway, Livia didn't have to look out the window to appreciate the majestic scenery that rose all around her. She'd seen all of the beautiful tones before that generously scattered the slopes here and there.

In the late autumnal burst, their colours were additionally accented by the sun which shone more brightly the further she travelled from Hunter's Fall, so much so that the black tar of the road shimmered prettily in the distance between lone vehicles.

The good weather had surprised Livia as she had expected rain for most of the day considering the near enough constant state of play at Hunter's Fall. When she had left there had been a distinctly black cloud hovering over the grounds and a strong wind that had manifested itself to frigidly pick at the panels of her long coat.

Strangely, an overwhelming sense of dread had shortly overcome her as she sat behind the wheel of the car, almost causing her to cancel her trip for another day, but it had not won out. Livia had dismissed the sudden change as a foolish, most likely the result of the disagreement with her brother, but such determination had not stopped the small feeling giving rise to a wave of distress as she had approached the estate's boundaries.

It had grown worse by the minute as if something, or someone, had placed an invisible deterrent at the ground's limit. It was only as she hit tarmac that the genuine sense of distress dissipated completely.

Now eyeing the glint of the sun through her Aviators, Livia was thankful to have placed her childish imaginings to one side as she enjoyed the drive.

_It's gorgeous._

She had to shift in a minuscule gesture as an uncomfortable feeling settled in the very pit of her stomach. It had been unthinkable at one time, but Livia had missed _all_ of it and the new sights of her home were especially tempting, even making her believe in the previously unimaginable.

_I wonder what-_

But her time for reflection on new ideas, was suddenly interrupted by the calm tones of the GPS as it indicated the next junction Livia would need to make a turning at. On a complacent sigh she lessened her grip on the steering wheel and instead concentrated on her second favourite past time.

_Driving._

She allowed a small smile to paint her lips as the car passed over the next rise and the sprawling cosmopolitan of the capital came into view. It wasn't long after the sight that Livia was striding purposefully across the marble floored lobby of the Athénée Palace Hotel towards Michael Rathbone.

"Michael," she said with genuine affection and then promptly enclosed him in a warm hug with a kiss at each cheek. "How's Catherine?"

"Firstly, it's actually nice to see you in person _Livia_ and the wife is doing fine," Michael said whilst indicating the direction of the tea room.

"She's still half asleep from the flight over, but I believe she already plans to drag me out shopping for the twins-"

"She's very tired?"

He noticed that she stopped immediately, suffused with concern, as a guilty frown marred her flawless features. If Livia had been the angel then his dear wife was the fallen one in appearance - the two females, so very dissimilar, still shared a close bond of friendship.

"American Airlines will be charging you for first class tickets for the both of us on my next invoice so stop scowling."

Michael gently pushed her in the right direction once more and she complied at his insistence.

"I never scowl-"

"Tell that to a mirror, but before we wander down this road let's talk about-"

"Business?"

"You know most lawyers tell their clients what to do, not the other way around," he replied.

Livia rolled her eyes and continued walking into a large gallery with extremely high windows that was dotted with round tables reserved for afternoon tea. She allowed Michael to seat her and then himself before she made any comment.

"Well, most clients didn't house share with their future lawyers when they couldn't tell the difference between _Force Majeure_ and _An Act of God_," Livia finished with a cheeky grin.

"Catherine was always the nicer one," Michael finished with absolute confidence.

"Of course she is, she has an artist's soul - God knows what she saw in you though."

"Charming Liz," he said then corrected himself, "sorry, I mean _Livia _these days."

She narrowed her eyes in mock distaste, but said nothing as a polite gentlemen took their order of speciality tea.

"Tell me, how did you manage to get past the doorman with blue jeans on?"

"Charm obviously-"

Her old friend snorted his derision as such a comment.

"Whilst I'm sure you could find some way to get past him I doubt you charmed him."

"I'm perfectly charming when I want to be, but admittedly, you didn't see the car I drove in," she smiled. "It allowed me enough scope to bypass such an archaic rule."

"Let me guess, _another _Aston?"

She raised her irreproachable blue eyes from the cake menu before her and said, "You make it sound like such a bad thing, I think no one appreciates my good taste these days."

"Like your brother?"

"How _did_ you know?"

The sarcasm was most cutting, but it failed to phase to her old friend. If anything, it amused him a little more as he began to seek the truth of her sudden wish to return home.

"Catherine told me you had a zero tolerance policy towards him, that you were most likely out to goad him into a grave-"

"Cath merely has a suspicious mind that I doubt you help!"

She lowered her eyes back down to the extensive menu in order to hide her quick look of guilt. It was enough that she had decided to show more patience towards Marc on the drive down, but there was no need for anyone else to point out the truth so robustly.

Livia would show more patience for her idiotic sibling, he was the only one she had after all. Still, she was his baby sister, not some sort of saint. She still remembered the bruise on forehead which had stung whilst it lasted.

"Did you hear me?"

Livia raised her eyes once more from the menu to look at the man opposite her.

"Sorry, I was a little distracted," she replied and leaned back with hands upon her lap.

Michael allowed some of his concern to filter through as he asked, "Are you alright here? I mean, I always think Cath is just teasing, but you're not unhappy here, are you?"

"That's a hard question to answer."

"Is it?"

Livia fiddled with the edge of the menu and didn't say anything for a moment.

Michael folded and re-folded the white napkin before him as he carefully considered his next words, "I don't know everything that happened, but I do know that we were all poor, but reasonably happy in our own little family in Brixton-"

"And we still are a family," she interrupted him with confident words. "Distance has never changed that."

"You used to confide more easily in me during those student days."

Livia smiled as his words recalled the small terraced house that she had first shared with the lawyer and the artist. It had been hard as she had diverted all of her funds towards investment endeavours rather than the quality of the roof over her head.

"He hasn't kidnapped you or anything like that has he?"

"Who?"

"Your brother."

Livia couldn't help but colour guiltily at the simple words she couldn't quite refute.

_Or anything indeed_, she thought remembering the first conversation held with Marc in her room.

"It's nothing I haven't batted back before," she replied hesitantly.

"It's your father's will again, isn't it?"

"No," she denied badly.

"Then why are you turning that unattractive shade of beetroot," asked Michael.

A wave of discontent broached the shores of her sanity at his words. It was unfair that he had always been the best at picking apart her appearance - she didn't blush that madly, surely?

At her damning silence he added, "I was joking originally, but now I'm worried."

She brought her hands up above the table to smooth away an imagined crease in the pristine cloth. Without a doubt she would have to answer him, there was no getting around his hunting instincts when they were roused - he was an awfully good lawyer in truth.

"Well," she started, but failed abysmally to cover her unease, "it's all very complicated."

"And you wondered why you never got that understudy role as _Mrs Lovett,_" he regarded her turbulent look for a moment. "You're a terrible actress Livia."

"Thanks," came the sarcastic reply.

"That's it?"

"What more can I add?"

"How about the full story?"

"It's a trifle."

"Livia-"

"I'm not having Cath upset by something that is, at the most, a case of ideas getting lost in translation. It's a different world over here, or had you two not noticed?"

"Dragging your sister back to the middle of nowhere for the sake of marrying her off like some broodmare is more trouble than my poor pronunciation when it comes to the menu-"

"When you put it like that I don't know why you even bothered with me in the first place," she said a little protective of her valley in the middle of _nowhere_.

"I didn't mean it like that."

He repented at once, not in the slightest inclined to upset her.

"I'm only worried about you," he said. "It's quite the turn around to find you defending this place."

"I know Michael, trust me, but it's just that maybe I like being home for the moment," she paused and raised her hand to stop the tirade of words that she knew would come.

But whilst Livia successfully stopped his flow of words, she couldn't influence the look of intriguing surprise on his face.

"I know, I _know_, I've said some terrible things about this place since my parents died, but I'm finding that I should try letting go of some of my adolescent hate. I didn't do too badly after all."

Michael only looked at her with a raised eyebrow - they had often had this exact conversation before, although _she_ had never wanted to listen in times gone by. It might have irritated anyone else to hear her swift change in attitude, but he only listened intently.

At his quiet regard she added, "I didn't mean to shock you into silence, you don't have to look so worried. I still despise Marc - mostly - so I doubt I've been brainwashed _that_ successfully."

Livia smiled weakly when she met a wall of silence and decided to order for them both in the mean time whilst Michael thought it all through. She knew his weakness for cake quite well having made him her prime guinea pig for many years previously.

It didn't take long for the two handsome looking desserts to arrive at their table complete with antique bone china. A fresh pot of tea was also served in darling cups that looked awfully appealing with the hot curl of steam rising from them.

Michael took a sip of the imported Earl Grey before he finally said, "There is a man missing in all of this."

Livia could feel him watching her with his beady and ever dissecting court-eye as she tried desperately not to show her shock. She picked up her cake fork and obediently began to work on her cake.

_How the hell did he know?_

She continued to dissect the chocolate cake, but just as she raised a piece to her lips Michael spoke again, "A very _interesting_ man that I would like to meet if this is your reaction."

It was the comment to break her composure as she minutely jerked in shock at the words which caused the dainty piece of moist cake to tumble off her fork and onto the fine white linen of the table. In a moment of pure clarity, she knew that her immortal embarrassment would never live the reaction down.

"Perfect," was all she said on a little sigh.

"Is he now?"

Livia glared at Michael as she did her very best to look serene whilst she fished the piece of cake back onto her plate before promptly abandoning the whole mess.

"Shouldn't we be talking about how the sale went?"

"There is time for that and I would have told you immediately if anything had been a miss."

Far from looking worried anymore, Michael was now sitting back in his chair looking amused.

"So tell me. Is he older than you? Does he play sports? Is he a gentle-"

"Do we have to talk about _this_?"

Livia realised too late that her voice had been raised and it caused a curious silence in the tea room with all eyes turning in their direction. She schooled her features under the avid scrutiny, but Michael seemed to pay the commotion no attention. If anything he was looking smug.

"Congratulations, Cath will be pleased-"

"Would everyone stop taking it as if I'm getting married, it's embarrassing," she implored of her old friend. "You should feel ashamed making such assumptions. I'm basically your little sister Michael, if anything, you should be livid there is some man after me, not rejoicing."

"That is exactly why I'm _rejoicing_ my little sister."

"_What?_"

"You've never been this touchy about a man and you've certainly never acted like this over that idiot Williamson, which, tells me for certain that this man is _interesting._"

"Don't remind me of that idiot," she grumbled and rubbed a growing ache at her temple.

As if prompted by their turn in conversation, Michael turned to retrieve a small box from his briefcase. A simple, white, rectangular box that he handed over to Livia.

"That reminds me of an errand, here's the new phone you asked for - do I need to be worried about him?"

"Thank you," she took the box and placed it beside her. "James will get over it - _eventually_."

"If he doesn't then you know we still have our connections," Michael said in a lowered tone.

At the implication Livia shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but eventually replied, "It will be fine, I know you'll always help me, but I'm hoping we won't need to do anything."

"Alright," he agreed as if the matter was settled and then leaned back in the chair. "So tell me, who's the man that has you contemplating marriage?"

"I'm not contemplating matrimony-"

"You brought it up, not I," he finished gleefully. "Has he proposed?"

She paled and Michael released a bark of laughter that had a steward frowning in their direction.

"Wonderful," he said with a clap of his hands. "I can't wait to tell Cath."

Cornered, Livia drooped with her face in her hands and stared morosely at her savaged piece of chocolate cake.

"I can't be getting lost in such ridiculous ideas Michael."

"Why ever not?"

He reached across the table and pulled one of her hands away from her face. It revealed the confused light in her eyes as she peered tentatively at him.

"I can't think when he's near me and…"

"And?"

Michael prompted her to expand with a small shake of the hand he held.

"_And,_" she said as she raised herself further to look at him, "and I'm twenty-nine, and he's part of the _old _circles, and I _love_ working, and I don't model anymore, so you know…"

Michael regarded her blankly.

"He's said that you can't work?"

"No."

"That you're too old?"

"_No._"

"Well, what's you're age got to do with anything and, likewise, whether or not you walk the boards anymore?"

"I'm not _VS _quality any more," she tried miserably to elaborate for him.

"The female mind continues to boggle me. I'm sorry, but I haven't got the faintest idea what you're on about-"

"Look at me Michael."

"_Yes?_"

"Well, despite the bravado I know full well I'm not as thin as I once was-"

"Oh, for goodness sake Livia," he said and continued with exasperation, "you're just having a _fat_ moment."

"What?"

The feeling of joy that he might actually have understood her worries was dissipating like mist before the morning sun.

"I was reading GQ magazine a while ago and there was an article about the female psyche - I'm trying to get in touch with my feelings now that Cath is pregnant you see," he explained when she raised an eyebrow at him. "You go through stages of lacking confidence and somehow always end up with the problem you're fat-"

"You honestly think that drivel is going to help? You're still such a geek."

He let out a peel of laughter which brought the various glances back their way before saying, "And you are clearly a vain women."

"You didn't know that already by sharing a bathroom with me?"

"Oh, I did learn that between the both of you," he smiled in remembrance, but added seriously as he picked up a cake fork, "I swear you're the most ungrateful wretch, Cath is going to slap you if she hears you complaining like that-"

"I somehow feel insulted," Livia interrupted him.

"For goodness sake," he quipped between a mouthful of bannoffee pie, "back in the mists of time you were a size zero and we all hated it. You didn't eat a damn thing and during the worst of it you ended up unconscious at the back of some show. We were all too happy when we managed to convince you to take up the pictorial edits-"

"I can't say _I _was too happy when he just wanted my clothes off," she snapped.

"Hey, there is a darkness in all professions, but you were wise enough to steer clear of that particular area," he paused between mouthfuls. "It disgusts me to say this, but you look better now than you did then. Got past the doorman with a wink didn't you?"

"That's easy enough with money," Livia hedged.

"Look, I doubt _Mr Interesting_ would be pursuing you if he didn't like the idea of you with your kit off, or is it just your rather good taste he's interested in?"

"_Michael_," she hissed with embarrassment.

He was about to take a little tea before he decided to add, "Also, you think you're _old?_ When you get to my age then you can call yourself old, you've not even hit thirty yet."

The stiff set of her shoulders relaxed somewhat, but she remained silent all the while broadcasting her agitation.

"That's not the problem though is it?"

"It's all too fast-"

"I loved Cath the moment I saw her-"

"It took you four years to ask her out," she cut in. "After sharing a house for three of those years."

"What? Like you said I'm a geek, right?"

"He could be exactly like my father…"

"I highly doubt that-"

"You really think so?"

"God no, I think he'll be worse actually," he finished.

"_Michael!_"

"I'm kidding-"

"It's not something to joke about," Livia scowled at him again.

"You've been here what? A week? I bet you've been badly behaved most of that time-"

"_Excuse me?_"

"I've known you for a long time and I doubt you took to arriving here so unexpectedly with, shall we say, _good manners_. It would have just been wrong coming from you."

"I suppose-"

"And how has he acted?"

At her silence he simply gave an all knowing, "_H'm_."

"I think there must be something in the water around here," she said looking into her empty tea cup, "because the longer I stay the more forgiving and willing I am to remain."

"You miss them?"

"You know I've missed my mother everyday of my life-"

"That's not the money question Livia, what about your father?"

She paused for a little while, measuring the truth of her words before giving them a voice.

"I spent a long time hating him with everything I had because I couldn't seem to please him, now, _now_ I hope he can find something to proud of me wherever he is," she finished softly. "Is that pathetic?"

"It is what it is," he replied with sympathy. "Shit happens."

"God Michael, promise me you'll stop reading trendy articles," she demanded on a long suffering sigh.

He was quick to smile in response, but the sudden vibration of his cell phone pulled them both out of any conversation with thoughts alighting on their missing partner.

He noticed the caller ID and immediately picked up, "Cath, I found her dear and yes, she's all yours to drag along the _Calea Victoriei_ this afternoon - yes, I'll see you soon."

He cut the call and said, "Did I get the pronunciation right?"

"Butchered like a prime steak Michael," she said on a growing smile.


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

"_to all creatures great and small"_

Livia was certainly tired as she made her way through the outer circle of traffic and headed out north towards the wider roads that would eventually take her back home to the valley. Though Cath might have been six months pregnant, with twins to boot, the woman showed just as much vitality as when they had both been sixteen and had religiously trawled through Camden Market once a month.

Despite the obscene amount of swimming Livia had been doing lately, she had been no match for the whirlwind called Cath. She had literally oozed energy after her revitalising nap and there had been no stopping her once Michael had informed his wife that Livia was set for a date of sorts.

In fact, Livia had been dragged into more shops than she cared to count with the literal bags of evidence sprawled out over the back seats of the car. She was quite sure that she would be forced to resole her blessed heels after the unrelenting frog march which Cath had demanded.

_It had been a pleasure though_, she wily mused.

In the rear view mirror she darted a subtle glance towards two inconspicuous shopping bags - one a smaller light pink with a black ribbon, the other a larger manilla bag.

By five thirty the sky had gradually darkened at an alarming rate as Livia approached the last leg of her journey. As she turned down onto one of the smaller roads that led home, the first droplets of rain hit the windscreen and within minutes the down pour had become much heavier.

Forced to slightly slow her speed as she took the numerous sharp bends and escalating curves in her stride, Livia knew she was going to be later than expected.

Of course, the conditions failed to improve despite her silent prayers in earnest. It rained hard and whilst money had purchased her the latest in transport technology, the powerful beams did little to make accurate headway through the deluge.

The road continued to snake and twist for what seemed like an age to Livia and she would have completely failed to guess her proximity to the house if it had not been for the paltry comfort provided by the GPS system. A little more than frustrated and more than aware of the time, Livia pushed to sit just below the speed limit of the road.

It went without saying that she had no wish to be late tonight for not only did she aim to at least try to appease Marc, she had also been promised an outing to the opera.

"Just my luck," she muttered and took her gaze off the road to glance at the GPS map.

The digital display showed an unnecessary weather warning and a worryingly low signal bar, both of which tempted Livia to drag out an old fashioned road map.

It was as she committed that cardinal sin of taking her attention off the road for a moment too long that an animal loomed in the glare of her headlights. Its large eyes glowed a startling yellow as they reflected the full force of the car's beam.

On an automatic impulse Livia swerved and slammed down hard on the brakes when she finally saw the animal.

The wheels of the heavy vehicle locked as they reacted instantaneously, screeching across the wet surface in protest as they failed to make adequate contact with the slick road at such speed. It took precious seconds before the entire vehicle came to a sharp halt on the side of the deserted road.

It was the coveted, if dratted, stop in the end that did the most damage as it sent a whip of movement ricocheting though the compact vehicle, catching Livia in its invisible grasp as she struck her forehead against the top of the steering wheel.

She let out an immediate hiss of pain as it made hard contact, but remained grateful that her neck remained intact at least.

Silence reigned supreme for a moment with only the sound of rain falling upon the roof of the stationary vehicle.

"Dammit," Livia cursed avidly once she had a semblance of control over her racing heart.

"Stupid, stupid," she further admonished before switching on the cab light and taking a good look in her visor mirror.

Hoping only for a bruise had obviously been too much for the fates. Instead, a thin gash bled from where the unpleasant impact had split her skin. It ran in a shallow line from the centre of her forehead down to her temple.

Of course, she had been blessed with a bruise too as the area was tender to her touch. Carefully, she wiped at the blood with the sleeve of her jersey, but soon gave up when only a small trickle trailed down the side of her face. It would do for the moment.

Never mind later this evening, she was positive that by tomorrow her latest head injury would display all the colours of the rainbow with a headache to match.

"Well done Livia," she said with a touch of self-depreciation and switched off the cab light.

Her quick mind now turned to her surroundings as she became unwilling to focus on her own stupidity any longer.

Luckily, she was still _on the road_ and had merely skidded onto the sidings. She had not been so careless as to make it the entire way over into one of the deeply forested ravines.

_At least there are some benefits to be had…_

She felt exhaustion tug at the fringes of her being, but shook it off faster than she deemed possible with one threatening thought. It unsurprisingly revolved around her brother discovering her present mishap in one of her _cars_. The last thing that anyone needed was Marc finding her in this condition.

No one would ever hear the end of it.

Dragging on her coat in preparation for some fresh air before she continued onwards, Livia was immediately assailed by distress as she remembered the possible fate which the small mammal in the middle of the road might of suffered. After all the trouble the creature had caused her, the last thing Livia deserved was the guilt of having accidentally killed it - she was determined to check.

_Livia._

At the sound of her name reverberating through her mind so clearly, she turned sharply towards the back seats in order to check that she was indeed alone in the vehicle. The too sharp action caused a pain in her neck that she lamented earnestly, but her eyes still continued to scour the small confines to find nothing amiss.

From what Livia could see, she was alone in the car with only the murky depths of the rain filled night extending beyond the windows.

Trying to regulate her sudden hitch in breathing, she took a swipe at the annoying trickle of blood that dripped down into her eye. It was slowing, but not fast enough for her liking.

"Shock. Just shock, or at least a concussion," she repeated to herself like a mantra of self preservation. "I'm just innocently hallucinating."

_I'm glad that you would think of only me, but be practical._

Livia's eyes widened alarmingly at the continued voice in her mind as she sat frozen, staring blindly out the rear windshield of the car.

_Tell me where you are - look around you._

Maintaining the stillness of prey apparently did not help her cause. She still heard the voice in the walls of her mind - _his_ voice in her mind.

Unlikely though it was, it was as if Kristos was right beside her, speaking directly to her. Only now, she could also feel a bundle of watery emotions enclosing her. It took a scarce minute for her clever mind to conclude that they weren't hers at all, but his emotions, as if they shimmered down an invisible line of communication.

It was strangely intimate and for a wild moment, Livia wondered if she could do the same to him.

_You'd be surprised what we could do together, now turn slowly for me and cast your eyes on the road so that I can find you._

Persistently, Livia could feel him pushing at her senses, encouraging her to give in to his command, and with that particular insight she also knew that Kristos was somehow able to sense exactly what she saw in that moment. She could feel his concern at her non-responsive nature and then gradually, his ever mounting frustration at her lack of cooperation that was slowly, but surely, giving way to something like anger.

It was then that Livia realised she was unhelpfully broadcasting her emotions to him, much in the same way she felt his - strong emotions that had unwittingly sought him out.

Distress.

Confusion.

Exhaustion.

She turned back in the front seat and rubbed the crick in her neck, but failed to follow his instructions to look around her. Instead, she came to gingerly hold her head in her hands and then took slow, deep breaths in a valiant effort to calm her emotions.

As she was used to, Livia automatically dismissed his freely given assistance and set to complete the challenge on her own. She couldn't help but feel slightly guilty that her own incompetence had managed to disturb him from such a distance.

"I don't need to be rescued, I'm fine," she said out loud unsure if he would hear her.

In the barren mental silence that followed her announcement she concentrated on mentally burying her emotions, an exercise that she had found quite successful when they had last shared a strange experience by the pool that morning.

Falsely calmed, but ever determined, Livia released her sore head, unlocked her car doors and then clicked the latch open in order to take a hesitant step forward out into the pouring rain.

_You don't know what's out there._

"I saw something and I'm not leaving it to die," she replied firmly as she felt the first icy droplets of rainwater unpleasantly snake down her collar.

Truthfully, it was colder than their previous sojourn in the rain and as a result, Livia felt his disapproval radiate more strongly, but in a split instant she was equally grateful that Kristos chose not to force his will upon her.

Something that she was not entirely sure he was unable to do.

_I could._

"I guessed as much," she muttered.

Upon shutting the car door behind her, Livia was forced to lean a hand against the body of the car as she wobbled precariously. Swallowing a wave of unpredictable nausea, Livia released her makeshift leaning post and increased her unsteady steps towards where she had last seen the animal.

"Tell me where it is-"

_What makes you think that I would know where that nuisance is?_

"Please Kristos," she asked again with a small shiver.

In the unwelcome well of silence Livia stood in the middle of the wet road and searched the darkness for any signs of an injured animal, but her senses were doomed to fail in the appalling rain. It was beyond cold as she trembled repeatedly and the water slowly crept into her shoes.

"You know exactly where it is," she bit with a little anger colouring her tones.

_And why is that?_

"Because you can damn well disturb my sanity doing _this_," she impatiently told the air around her and waved a hand between her head and the empty road. "It's not natural!"

Livia concentrated on the sensation of his presence in her mind and hoped that he would feel it to, imagining a lasso around the insubstantial _thing,_ she silently threatened to lock him away. It felt entirely ridiculous, but she took solace in blaming it all on being knocked on the head one too many times.

_You know nothing really, but I'm pleased that you show such an aptitude for our bond._

"I _know _that you can tell me where the little chap is, so tell me Kristos," she stubbornly demanded.

There was a small silence as if he was deliberating her revealed talent rather than focusing on her request. It annoyed her, but her next action was to unashamedly allow the scale of her physical hurt and weariness to seep into her plea.

"_Please_ Kristos, the sooner I can find him, the sooner I can come home to you."

Unsurprisingly, at the use of such tactics she received an almost immediate, if begrudging, response.

_You will find a juvenile wildcat, to the far left of where you are standing. He has been in a fight with something much larger than him – most likely a wolf, but I will not know until I have seen him. He is overtired and was merely frightened by you tonight._

Before Kristos had even finished she was off at his instruction, showing absolute trust in his word and it wasn't long before she tread carefully through the brush of brambles to spot her quarry.

In the rain, huddled on his side, was exactly what Kristos had promised Livia.

The poor animal's coat was matted with rain and mud, and although the light was poor, she could tell that his paw was the cause of his apparent ailment. To Livia, she looked at him and all her problems melted in comparison.

She hunkered down to his level well aware that she was within pouncing distance despite the injury, but the only reaction from her patient were his ears to press more firmly to his skull along with a low hiss that escaped over his sharp canines.

Livia still felt the connection between her and Kristos tingle with awareness, but instead of feeling intruded upon in her moment with the wildcat she welcomed the strange comfort it gave her as she began to gently hum to the injured creature.

The hissing ceased and his ears perked up in her direction to listen better. She continued at the promising body language and moved closer whilst slowly removing her long coat. Within minutes Livia had made it to the creature's side and gently wrapped him in the length of her coat as she lifted him into her arms.

_Now where did you learn that?_

She heard the curious question, but didn't answer immediately as she walked back to the car with her bundle and then gently laid the sleeping animal on the reclined passenger's seat.

"I found I liked animals when I worked with a wildlife society one summer," she replied in a distracted fashion as she hunched her shoulders inwards and then made a dash for her side of the car. "Consider yourself warned, I'm animal mad."

_Then it's fortunate I can help your new pet, I will be there-_

"You don't need to worry," she cut across his intent once more.

Livia's eyes and mind were all for the little creature seemingly at peace next to her as she softly shut her car door. She shifted gear and took one look at the GPS display all the while failing to predict Kristos' likely reaction to her independent streak.

"Now, if you don't mind - I need to concentrate a little more than usual," Livia said and then used her _little trick_ to severe their connection.

In the scant instant before she closed an imaginary wall around her thoughts she thought she had detected his utter disapproval of her actions, as if she had slammed a door in his face, but she dismissed the fanciful illusion.

If Livia had angered him, then she would apologise for it later, but first she had to get home.

Without doubt, she knew that she would have to learn more about _psychic etiquette_ in order to live with her shadow.

The grounds of Hunter's Fall soon appeared before her within the next twenty minutes and the rain had become blessedly lighter in that space of time. Passing underneath the main gated arch of the estate under the cover of earnest night, she reduced the strength of the car's beam and then manoeuvred at a snail's pace onto the path that led to the ground's stables.

Diligently, Livia avoided the front door as it would do no good to attract any undue attention, instead she attempted to draw less enquiries with her later than planned arrival by parking in the area closest to her private veranda - with any luck, the patio doors would still be unlocked as she had left them.

Satisfied that she was close enough to make a safe dash for her outer bedroom doors, the engine was cut and she quickly rounded on the vehicle to pick the little beast up into her arms, humming a little as he stirred.

Preoccupied with her task she ignored the once important packages in the back seat of the car and nearly collided with the dark shadow who stalked the entrance to her bedroom - doors already wide open in expectation of her arrival.

"_Kristos_," she squeaked in surprise.

In the dim light he stood on the threshold of her room dressed in elegant detail in readiness for their assigned evening out. She bit her lip as she took in his foreboding expression and was guiltily aware of the time.

Livia was more than late.

Pale from the unplanned excursion and soaked to the bone, she took a step in retreat with her costly bundle before she said, "You look angry so I suppose silence will do."

When stating the obvious only seemed to increase his visible ire she added, "So, so could you at least look at his paw before you rip my throat out?"

_In._

The command sizzled along the previously dead connection, Livia mutely gasped as it hit home. It was sharp and more powerful than she had been privy to, but unbeknown to her, it was only a glimpse of his demon's true ability.

With a surreptitious glare in his direction she didn't argue further as she carried her charge into the dry room.

Out of the rain, Livia placed her damp bundle onto the edge of the bed and immediately turned for the bedside lamp, but Kristos' words soon put a stop to her actions.

"Leave it. I do not need it to see," he rapped out impatiently.

Rather than recoil from his tone, Livia rolled her eyes and gingerly sat near the docile wildcat as she watched in growing fascination.

Her shadow-man seemed to mentally assess the animal as it lay perfectly still under his direct gaze, regarding him equally with its own yellow eyes. Shortly thereafter, Kristos brought his hand up and forward, towards the injured paw, but he stopped just as suddenly before he touched the bloody fur.

Both man and beast held the fascinating fresco in silence for so long that Livia felt herself becoming sleepy, but she fought the hypnotic impulse and merely shifted closer to watch. It was at her subtle shift that Kristos then removed his hand from the creature and it too moved to leap up onto all four working paws.

_I must be tired, but I could swear blind they're talking to one another_, she mused in her mind as she watched.

She became more alert when the creature turned on its front paws towards her and, in an unhurried movement, rubbed its wet head against her out stretched hand. When it had adequately rubbed its scent all over her outstretched offering, the small wildcat gave a last lingering look at the man stood at the foot of the bed before it bounded out the door and into the rain.

It's feline tail was the last sight Livia saw before it disappeared completely into the darkness.

"Just like that?"

Livia gave a sound of resignation before she turned to look at the muddied coverlet which was covered in paw prints that extended over to her cream carpet. It distinctly smelled of wet dog too, no matter the irony.

"Messy thing," she said with false cheer.

Livia then proceeded to remove the spoiled cover from her bed, but she was well aware of the brooding gaze which kept attempting to ensnare her. It was a heavy, dark cloud that she felt swirl around Kristos, much like the foreboding elements from earlier.

Understandably difficult to ignore as she gathered together the loose corners of the bed spread.

Eventually, unable to stand the tension she said, "I'm sorry I cut you off like that."

Livia sighed heavily and turned to face him with the bundle of laundry in her arms, she felt at a loss in the face of his anger. It was indeed something dark and misgiving that she had not seen before, but the cause seemed a minor offence to her - especially in light of her apology.

"I didn't mean anything by it, but I didn't want to hit a tree the second time around," she smiled wryly, but it drastically failed to lighten the mood.

Kristos continued to stand with arms crossed over his chest and at the strange shimmer of amber in his eyes, Livia gave up her newly sworn patience and proceeded to dump the soiled cover to one side. She flicked on her beside lamp and instantly the room was flooded with gentle golden light that threw his expression into better view.

"I have apologised, the only other thing left to say is that I'm exceedingly grateful for whatever you did just now," she released a pent up breath and tenderly felt the congealing blood at her forehead. "I'm grateful and that damn wildcat is grateful so you can just stop _glaring_ at me like that."

It was as Livia then walked past him in exasperation towards her bathroom that one of Kristos' hands snapped out to roughly grasp her wrist and pull her towards him. With a muffled curse, Livia's damp form was brought up hard against his pristine evening attire.

At once the light from the lamp flickered once, twice and then unexpectedly puttered out whilst the patio doors rattled and opened their arms wider as a gust of wind tormented the long drapes. It caused her to swallow nervously, so perfectly did it all fit with the timing of his actions.

Kristos' dark eyes bored into her and she could feel his hot seething mass of emotions just below the surface of their strange connection, but the true cause eluded her.

Was it caused by her shutting him out?

Or her drive to the city?

Had it angered him in the same way it had angered Marc?

Of course, his tones soon broke into her mental rambling.

"Your friend, _Michael_, he was right about women and so was the _literature_ he read," Kristos told her.

Each vowel was stressed as he addressed Livia, betraying a stark measure of his dissatisfaction with her. He held her wrist even as another arm clamped around the small of her back. It was the terrible cold of her sodden clothes that gave his words their bite.

"You're all stupid creatures, the ridiculous things you think."

"Now you _hang_ on one minute," Livia said in turn. "You are the one with the odd communication and healing a wildcat! But _I'm_ the one with stupid thoughts?"

She flared at him with candid vigour, but she remained in his hold. Passively, her body contentedly absorbed his heat whilst her mind sparred with him. Unbeknown to her, it was the physical connection that allowed the demon to rest and the strange workings around them to subside to a more normal night.

"I thought it was all an _hallucination_," Kristos dripped sarcasm down at her.

"Don't you dare use _that_ tone with me or you can go with your ego tonight!"

"So you do remember that I exist and was patiently waiting for you?"

"Why do you _think_ I was rushing home in such bad weather?"

At the smile that adorned his good looks, Livia could have kicked herself for giving some of their game away. She shivered ever so slightly and hoped that he thought it was from the cold rather than his touch as a warm hand gentled to splay over the base of her spine.

"I am flattered Livia-"

"Oh forget it," she rushed on. "Not that it matters keeping anything to myself these days, you're probably in my head anyway!"

"Pardon?"

Kristos genuinely looked at her in puzzlement as if she were a baffling creature that really had hit her head a little too hard.

"Livia, your thoughts will remain your own unless you share them with me-"

"Forget it."

She attempted to pull ineffectively at his hold, but she admitted a physical defeat in the same way her tone had. Her head was aching more than was seemingly and she felt disappointment enclose her in its fold - the digital clock displayed that the present time had indeed moved on without her.

"I'm sure water sprites are supposed to be creatures that lure and beguile, but you're only ever out to vex-"

"_Vex_," she repeated.

Livia allowed her sudden amusement to interrupt her darkening mood as she looked up at him. The room was poorly lit, but she could just make out his expression as he looked down at her.

There was no denying that Kristos was a decent looking man in her opinion. Broad of shoulder with pleasing masculine features, it was his eyes that held her captive as usual.

They changed with his emotions, even if his body language did not.

"What are you? Two-hundred years old?"

She had expected those eyes to lighten with amusement at her question of age, but they didn't. Instead, Kristos held remarkably still as he was slow to respond.

"What would you say if I told you I was two-hundred and fifty next year?"

She smiled and replied, "I would ask what moisturiser do you use?"

"You have the most unexpected-"

"You don't look to be in your forties Kristos, maybe late thirties," Livia sagely advised. "Not that I'd discredit your appeal on the basis of age, but I never thought an _older _man was on the cards."

He said nothing at her words, but lifted a hand to gently brush her hair away from the injury at her temple. It had ceased to bleed in the time which had passed, although the mark of its discomfort was clear even from his light touch.

"I have waited a long time to come across you Livia," he said. "Much longer than a human lifetime, it's said that such a trial teaches my kind patience, makes a soul worthy in the end."

At the odd notes in his speech, Livia chose not to say anything as he cupped her fragile jaw and then placed a chaste kiss at her temple, right where the painful ache originated. All at once, a cooling sensation spread to encircle the pain in her head like a soothing balm.

If it was possible, she relaxed further into his arms like a docile lamb as the painful headache dissipated. Comfortable with his hands on her body, she kicked off her wet heels where she stood and then sunk her feet gratefully into the rich carpet within the circle of his arms.

With the fibres being much softer, and certainly warmer, than the cold leather of her designer shoes, Livia enjoyed the sensation of simply existing as the sound of rain could still be heard falling beyond her patio doors.

Her shadow might not of seemed as at peace with her actions, but she enjoyed his presence too much to dwell on the war of control.

At the height of his shoulder, she leaned her head back slightly to ask in earnest, "What makes that possible for you?"

"What would that be?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about Kristos _Kostova_."

"Ah, so you found out my darkest secret at last," he said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why does it matter?"

Livia had been ready to throw many valid points at his feet, but he had one that trumped them all. Indeed, she had often kept her last name from people least it unnecessarily colour their opinion of her, but still - _she_ had a grievance to air.

"Well, you're a Kostova," she replied as if it explained everything. "You _should_ have told me."

"Livia, had I thought it might of garnered me a little more respect where you are concerned then I would have used it-"

"It would have gotten you more vinegar than honey," she cut directly.

"_Exactly_, you're far more prone to my kiss surrounded by a little more mystery than is normal."

Even before Kristos moved, Livia saw the intent darken his eyes as he leaned forward, but she wasn't prepared to let the main matter go unanswered just yet.

"This still doesn't explain all of your strange talents?"

"You're not frightened?"

"Should I be?"

"I should say _yes_, but I don't want you to fear me now that we've begun," he easily replied.

"You promised to tell me tonight Kristos-"

"So I did, but I really wouldn't be living up to the irony of _noblesse oblige_ if I didn't take advantage, yes?"

Livia coloured an appealing pink as he specifically recalled her acidic thoughts of his entitled peerage, that he was merely rich and bored. She eyed him meanly through the veil of her thick lashes.

"It's rude to eavesdrop on every one of my thoughts."

Kristos didn't look in the least contrite as he started to say, "It's rude to think that-"

But, before he could voice his predictable words, her hands quickly rose over the crisp fabric of his attire to find a firm grip on his shoulders and then, she leaned up on the tips of her toes to boldly kiss him.

Her lips were soft to the touch and her light sigh was a pleasure that Kristos failed to resist.

When he lowered himself ever so slightly to make amends for her height, Livia allowed her grip at his shoulders to lessen as her hands found different avenues to curl and cling to her shadow-man. Her hands slid into the opening of his evening jacket to meet the warm, tensed flesh of his abdomen and then travelled around to the planes of his back - never had she enjoyed the feel of a cotton shirt as much.

"I will pleasurably concede that this is a much better way to argue," Kristos lightly said between kisses.

Livia made no response as she gave herself up to the tumble of emotions that surrounded her. As clear as day she could feel their combined desire saturate the air around them. Stranger still, she wasn't in the least perturbed by the, now expected change, that overtook his features at the rush of lust.

Instead, Livia made a little sound of encouragement as she warmed to a slow burn beneath his wondering touch. For once, her damp clothes were forgotten as one of Kristos' hands rose between them to cup her full breast beneath her clothing.

_Such a gorgeous creature to call my own._

His voice reverberated richly in her mind as he gently applied a tantalising pressure before sliding a thumb over a hardening peak. Repeatedly he toyed with her breast, eliciting small sounds of pleasure before he continued down to settle a hand at her hip.

It drove the warmth in Livia a little higher as that same hand didn't pause for long, but instead, grasped the bottom of her damp sweater and deftly peeled the material from her body. Baring her body to him.

_My sprite has excellent taste in lace._

His praise and renewed touch lent her a certain confidence under his rapt gaze. With eyes a wonderful amber he traced the slim contours of her neck down to the generous rise of her breasts adorned in a webbed confection, but more than just the man before her, it was also apparent that something beneath his veneer took an increased interest in her as well.

A darker presence that was a part, but not quite a part of Kristos, became known as it hummed along their private connection.

As she had with other more disturbing matters, Livia allowed the matter to lie. She contently breathed deep to watch his appreciation grow and to also scent the appealing tang of man. Deep into her lungs she took him, likely be able to recognise her vice anywhere.

_Kristos,_ she appealed silently succumbing heartily to temptation.

With nimble hands she took his own and brazenly placed them over her lace covered breasts.

_I expect you to look and touch_, Livia informed him.

At her flash of cheek she smiled devilishly at him from beneath thick lashes that worked to enhance the coy tilt of her head. In earnest summons she cast her net and he immediately responded, quite caught as he leaned in to take her lips by force. He could feel the well of laughter rising within her at the action, as if she was well aware of the power she held, but it was soon overcome as he repeated the earlier possessive action over both of her breasts.

As Kristos knew she would, Livia mewled wantonly and fitted herself impossibly closer to him the longer he tormented her, but when her hands started to rove further - he also knew their time was at an end for now.

Capturing her hands in his own, Kristos murmured, "I think I have told you may times before that you're going to be the death of all my good intentions."

When he spotted the now familiar, determined, gleam of blue in her eyes, he proceeded to soften his denial through the placement of soft, sweet, kisses along her throat. In apparent acceptance for the time being, Livia breathed a contented sigh and remained pliant as he spoke to her.

"You know that I want an answer to my proposal before we go any further-"

"And I want my answers too, but I've still made allowances," Livia countered.

"You're idea of an allowance is mean, _miserly_."

"But Kristos," she wheeled, "I've told you that I have the most _pressing _attraction to you - why can't I have what I want?"

Better than any sultry pout she might of contrived for the camera, she turned the full force of her coy charm upon him with the mischievous glint of play in her sapphire eyes.

"Because," he repeated somewhat hollowly, captured by the glide of her tongue over bruised lips.

"Because _what?_"

"Livia, you've been out in the rain-"

"I have you to warm me Kristos," she purred in return and peppered kisses along his resistive jaw. "Your making excuses."

But despite her best efforts and the marginal success she had achieved, he seemed to shift and become increasingly distracted by the ever looming presence between them. Turning inward to deal with his preoccupation, as if the darker shade to his character wanted something that he wasn't prepared to give it just yet.

It was his genuine tone of worry that trailed off in a foreboding sentence which most effectively broke into her playful game.

_Livia, it is not good to have such a…_

"To have what, Kristos?"

Her words landed across the warm skin of his throat as her hands found purchase at the back of his shirt, gently she pulled the tails from his belted trousers. Unable to entirely resist, her quick hands slide beneath the shirt and soon met the smooth skin of his back.

Momentarily held speechless at the contact, Kristos absorbed Livia's touch as it ran over the hidden planes of tense muscle - instinctively soothing the conflict within.

Delicate and feminine, she idly trailed the blunt ends of her neat nails across his lower back and it spurred his imagination on to more dangerous routes. Nevertheless, when the calling he felt began to seep along the boundaries of rationale control - enough was enough.

_Blood, it is not good to have to have such a blatant temptation._

"I'm not bleeding anymore," she said. "It barely hurts anymore-"

_Fresh or not, there is nothing quite like yours to me my little sprite._

Again, Livia didn't question how she came to hear him, but she most certainly did hear him all the same and, curiously, she also felt the simmering of Kristos' emotions that accompanied the disguised request. It was renewed worry that drifted to the forefront of his desires most strongly.

An anxiety that he would unintentionally harm her, all because of the mark to her forehead.

"Why?"

"It is another attribute of mine," Kristos replied cryptically.

She felt the tension radiating from him, but she couldn't be sure whether it was because of the blood, or because he was unsure of her reaction to the truth he was keeping from her.

"Tell me then, and if I don't like the news I can always blame it on a concussion."

_Whilst I have a particular desire for you, there also is a part of me that yearns for your blood especially._

"To kill me?"

Livia did not move from his hold, but looked at him with the light of enquiry.

"Why ask such a _vile_ thing when you know it's not true?"

Refusing to feel cowed by the admonishing tone in Kristos' voice she continued, "Because getting information out of you is harder than getting water in a dessert."

Kristos merely looked down at her over his aristocratic nose.

"Oh for pity sake, I've not run from you yet so _explain _why?"

"Because it calls to my demon," he finally murmured in response.

When she kept her features schooled, as if the revelation was nothing out of the ordinary, Kristos proceeded to lean in towards her slowly in order to display the evidence of the danger, giving her the freedom to back away from his kiss if she so chose - the likely outcome in his mind.

But of course, Livia did nothing of the sort as he leaned down to chastely place a kiss on her lips. It was gentle, soft and left her with the distinct impression he believed she might faint or try to bolt from his hold at the disclosure.

Neither were true as she allowed his tame ministrations for a moment before forcing him to lead her on an erotic dance with his lips as her tongue demanded entry. She lacked the correct amount of fear as she laved his lip and then pulled enticingly on his flesh with her own incisors.

"Livia," he started as if calling her name aloud would control her. "You are doing nothing-"

"For your good intentions, I know Kristos," she breathed in mild frustration. "Go on then, confirm my suspicions."

She held back from her want and proceeded to look at him in a curious fashion, wholly expecting him to do as she bid.

_I am an Undying Livia._

"A _what_?"

In her confusion she leaned back slightly and dropped her hands from around his back to his belt buckle. She took little notice of his swift inhale, intent on his next words.

_Something called an Undying, something like a demon with the urges of a-_

"Vampire," she bluntly announced.

"We have somewhat more class then that ill bred and ill advised label," he said.

Livia certainly detected a level of discontent with her theory as she packed it tidily away in the corner of her mind to assess later whilst she addressed him again.

"Well, the blood thing gave that away in all honesty, but it's nice for you to confirm my suspicions – I was more asking, why blood? Do you need it or do you just want it?"

A strange feeling assailed Kristos at her words.

He had fully anticipated a fit of tears, a fight or at the very least, he had anticipated the need for a compulsive binding to encourage Livia to remain in his company, but she did nothing of the sort except ask exasperating questions.

The type of questions that only a youngling might ask.

Kristos pulled her head against his shoulder and sank his fingers deeply into the rich wheat colour of her dampened hair. Charmingly, she made no protest as he held her against him in a gesture of comfort. At the ease at which she accepted the surface of their world, he was prompted to share the first thought which occurred to him.

"My thanks knows no bounds."

Of course, whilst Kristos basked in the renewed glow of his other half, Livia's mind was still churning with unanswered questions despite the easy manner she displayed. Pushing against his chest with the flat of her palms, she tutted heartily when he resisted her movements, but remained where she was.

From her limited position she felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear as she relaxed further against his chest. Unwittingly, she provided a soothing balm to both of them by allowing the continued contact.

All the same, Livia still asked, "Are you going to explain further?"

"Later, I promise, but for now we'll be late if you don't hurry and change for the evening-"

"We haven't missed it?"

This time she pushed away with enough force to look up at him with faint surprise as he allowed the move away from him. In the dim light she examined his features in a hopeful silence.

"It's never too late if you have a private box-"

Before he had finished speaking Livia had pivoted out of his hold and was off with the light of genuine excitement about her features. Of course, Kristos had long since lost his childish enthusiasm for the arts, but the female he was planning to escort apparently contained enough for the both of them.

"Give me twenty minutes," she said succinctly.

He was clearly dismissed from her presence as she continued towards the bathroom.

Indeed, Livia was inordinately pleased with the renewed prospect of going out for the evening. The list of tasks she had to complete were revolving around her head as she quickly made for the shower, but before she had reached further than the oak dresser - the entire room started to spin dangerously.

Ahead of her mind compartmentalising events, Kristos had already materialised at her elbow and deftly turned her into his capable grasp when her knees failed to stabilise as the axis of her world continued to tilt alarmingly.

"It's terribly unnatural that you can move that fast," she said as he laid a hand over her forehead.

_And I equally forget that you don't heal as quickly…_

"As a man I suppose?"

Against her forehead, she felt the same cooling sensation spread across her skin and travel that much deeper as her head rush began to subside, but despite the much needed respite, Livia still smarted from his apparent jibe.

"You could try and be a _little _less chauvinistic."

Kristos did not correct her, but merely uttered a non-committal response that seemed enough to stem her fire.

As Livia became grounded once more, she reached up to bring his hand down from her forehead to rest against her chest. In the dim light she blinked a little dazedly up at him as the earlier spinning seemed nothing more than a bad memory.

"You will have to teach me these tricks of yours," was all she said.

"And I will enjoy teaching you them," Kristos equally replied,

At the promise, he enjoyed a flash of Livia's dazzling smile before she encouraged him to release her once more and he did, albeit reluctantly.

As ever, Livia immodestly did not wait for him to leave as she began to undress on the way to her long sought after shower. The first item to go was the slim belt around her denim encased hips that unlatched with a _clip_ and was then flung over in the general direction of a chair.

Secondly, she reached behind to release the small catch of her dark bra and allowed the unhooked material to fall down her arms. Just inside the door of her bathroom, she turned to find that Kristos had not moved a muscle.

With one arm brazenly fitted across her breasts and another leaning against the door frame, Livia said, "If you would like to be useful then there are two bags I need from the car - be as nosey as you like, but I wouldn't suggest it."

In the dim light, Kristos watched as her skin took on the palest hue of night whilst her hair remained rumpled from their activities. Without a doubt she looked exactly like a troublesome sprite who meant business.

Unable to help himself, he had stood transfixed as she'd started to strip before his eyes and, remarkably, he'd found he wasn't as over eager to leave her presence, to see to his responsibilities that lay beyond her door. He bided his time as she stood there, teasing him, in jeans that highlighted her lithe figure and nothing more.

It was the _nothing_ more that particularly struck an indulgent chord within him.

"Why should I not look in the bag?"

With a tilt of her head she sent her flaxen locks spilling over one shoulder as she replied, "The manilla bag contains my dress - the expectation of a grand unveil goes unsaid, but the pink and black bag contains what I'll wear _beneath_ my dress."

Livia turned back to continue, as if she was going to enter the bathroom completely this time, but stopped on petite pivot to place her free hand against the door frame once more as she set her hip at a jaunty angle and then appraised him with a knowing smirk from head to foot.

"Actually, go ahead and look in the smaller bag - I'm sure you'll like it and I'll be quite comfortable wearing it for the next three hours, but how will you feel thinking about it for that long?"

The devilled gleam in her blue eyes challenged Kristos and he knew then that he would experience the opera as never before with his companion. She was baiting him with a sexual taunt which he simply couldn't allow to fall by the wayside.

Still, he remained in place, pleasantly wallowing in her torment whilst her unique call of blood and lust sang to him. Warm, willing, she made him ache and she damn well knew it with the look of a siren that graced her features.

It was that potent call which made his shoulders tense for an instant as the summons to bloodlust tempted him once more, encouraged him to take what she offered before their bargaining was at an end, but Kristos resisted. With a famed control that none of their kind could mimic, he resisted the urge - their time would come soon enough.

In the mean time, his eyes could look their fill.

Though she cleverly regarded him with a question, as if she sensed his internal struggle, Kristos allowed his gaze to fall from the top of her angelic head down to her full breasts and then on to the slight curve of her hip, just at the point where her delicious skin faded from his sight and slipped into her blue jeans.

Without thinking he broadcast his inner will for them to be simply _gone_.

Where before Kristos had found her abilities intriguing, he would soon find them trying as her bloodline made her an exceptional learner with an aptitude to match.

In an instant Livia's eyes narrowed with something like womanly wrath at his audacity, and from her expression it was entirely obvious to him that she had felt his mild compulsion, but it had not affected her whatsoever.

_I'm sure the fates find it funny to have sent a woman immune to me._

"I don't really think that I need to elaborate further," Livia said with a suggestive nod of her head towards the open patio doors.

She turned to venture deeper into the bathroom out of his sight and he only just caught the distinct mutterings of _compulsion nonsense_. Undecided on how to learn from the revelation, Kristos stood for a while longer, ever unwilling to leave just yet, but it was not long before she returned to the door to dismiss him more forcefully.

"_Well_, go get my bags and stop gawking at me," she threw at him and closed the bathroom door with a definitive _click_.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"_to the pleasure of company new"_

Nature had given Kristos the perfect excuse to send the rest of the party ahead of them whilst he chose to remain alone in his wait for Livia in the large foyer. It would take slightly longer to reach the capital as the heavens chose to remain open for the time being, already late - the others had not caused a stir at the impromptu instruction.

Of course, it was an added advantage that he would be able to keep Livia to himself for a while longer.

As the faint sound of an engine and dual voices finally disappeared behind the closed door, it was soon replaced by the distinct murmur of the house. Big, grand and very in keeping with tradition, Hunter's Fall was a house that was as cold in its welcome as the oncoming winter would be.

As he took to methodically pacing the area at the foot of the main staircase, Kristos took a moment to allow the cold calm of the empty space around him to seep deeply into his bones. It had been a long time since he had last thought to absorb his aesthetic surroundings, but the revelation was an interesting one.

So like his maintained nature, the house was a perfect study in peaceable decorum. Beautiful, costly paintings adorned the walls in every room of house and the frequent use of warm wood in the panelling gave off a glow that only diligent polish could enhance. It was, _idyllic_.

But scratch beneath the surface and a wild symphony of colours would be unleashed, the story of the head of the house and his only daughter was far from every family's dream. It would never be guessed at glancing around the foyer, never guessed if anyone chose to wander the rooms, but it was there.

Breathing with life like the very demon that possessed Kristos.

With little effort his mind sought the object of its fascination as she moved in a whirl of activity at the other end of the house. It seemed Livia was in a considerable rush to meet her twenty minute deadline.

In the natural use of his heightened senses, he came to instantly know that she was in the laborious process of pinning the rich mass of her hair up into a loose knot, one that would only allow the odd tendril to fall down in sultry disarray, but he wanted more.

Upon closing his eyes their fledgling bond flared with life to bring him closer, to intrude upon her space, but with a surprising show of strength Livia gave a light mental push back as if to remind him of his place.

_You're not helping my time management._

Drawing back to himself with a small smile, Kristos couldn't help but think of how easy it would be to miss the evening's performance in favour of other pursuits. It would be all to simple to miss the salutations that would undoubtedly prove too curious for Livia, but here or there, his sprite would still demand answers.

She would have questions that he had promised to answer.

Of course, the real skill would be in revealing the right amount of information at the opportune time.

The gentle tick of the grandfather clock accompanied his thoughts as if they were in a prelude all of their own. As a diplomat, a leader and her destined fate - there was surely only one route for them?

With a renewed flare of physical awareness that seemed to be cultivated for Livia alone, an unseen swathe of colour danced across his sense to herald her arrival. Full of expectation, Kristos turned knowing full well that she would be stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to make a grand entrance.

A performance that he intended to enjoy every moment of.

With lazy efficiency he placed one one foot on the first step of the staircase and a single hand on the banister as he watched her descend towards him.

Aware of his coveted attention, Livia slowly took the wide stairs one at a time with her chin raised ever so slightly as she worked hard not have her confidence unpicked by his look alone. Not shy, or caring for convention, Kristos let her feel the strength of his gaze as it wondered from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.

Her beautiful dress was a deep, matte red that draped lovingly from her otherwise bare shoulders to scoop low over her breasts and then tightened delicately at the waist before it swept down to the floor. Having taken note of his earlier weakness for the colour, Livia had certainly pressed her advantage, but it was only when she moved that the most daring aspect came into its own.

Bared for his pleasure, the length of each of one her legs was revealed in turn as she took a mincing step or two down the staircase towards him - slit high on either side, the inner material of the gown revealed a wet sheen of blood-red silk as it rustled gently against her skin.

"Your room is on the ground floor, how is it you're still coming down the staircase?"

"Because it provides a stunning view of my dress and how else are Jimmy Choos to be properly appreciated?"

Kristos didn't say anything, he couldn't argue with such logic.

"Do you know, I didn't even realise that someone of even your _elevated _station could do something as lowly as salivate over a woman," she said with a mocking smile. "Yet look at you, all fascinated by this little number."

"Come closer little one and we shall see how brave you really are," he returned smoothly with a wolf-like grin. "We could catch any other performance you know-"

"Tempting, but there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity," Livia cut in.

She descended a few more steps and was halfway to the bottom when Kristos spoke, his tones bringing her to a stand still.

"And yet you seem to daringly tread that line on a daily basis with me," he returned and leaped the first three steps with ease.

Smooth, effortless, Livia watched him gain a much closer distance without so much as trying. It was as discontenting as it was enticing as he stood a few steps lower, clasping the banister at either side with the look of a predator.

A predator in evening wear at that.

In the better light of the foyer, she noticed that he'd straightened, or changed, the shirt she'd uprooted earlier and, as a result, came to cut quite the figure in a midnight navy suite. The addition of a white silk scarf around his collar added something incredibly appealing to her shadow, a small salute to the more civilised conventions even as he continued to stare at her with such greed.

Rather unfairly for any other that had come before, Livia found herself comparing his fine form to her last proposed suitor.

_A much better candidate than James_-

"Care to elaborate?"

The question caught her in the midst of her unplanned day dream with the tone bringing her sharply to the present in a resounding rush. Whilst he had not moved any closer to her, the undeniable aura of his displeasure immersed her own, he looked like a man settling in for a siege as she tried her damnedest to recover ground.

"No one important," Livia flippantly brushed the matter aside.

There was little in her that wanted him to know of the mistake she had been so very close to making, that she'd actually almost given in to her father's ridiculous ideals. It was a cadaver that she would never willingly dissect with him.

"Really," Kristos said in a disbelieving tone. "There's nothing you'd like to share?"

There was a glimmer in his eye as if he knew exactly what purpose James' had fulfilled. It gave her the suspicious impression that he merely wanted the facts of the matter voiced out loud.

"Nothing that would concern you," she smartly headed him off. "Now are we going or not?

The steel in her tone, a refusal to confide in him, and a clear taunt in her latter question provoked his demon to the point where he gave in. In less than a blink of an eye he disappeared and reappeared a mere step or two away from where she stood.

The shock of the action entirely showed on Livia's face.

Kristos could almost feel the increased ebb and flow of her blood as it ran beneath her flawless skin, her pulse reflecting her fright as she paled further, but crucially did not flee. Despite his mounting irritation, he couldn't help but admire her courage in the face of the ability he manipulated, there were not many who would have stood so still at the display.

On a wicked impulse he drew nearer and the closer he came, the quicker her pulse beat at the base of her throat. With his hands braced on the banister at either side of them, his eyes alighted on the fragile column of her neck.

Crowding her, Kristos leaned in slowly with the devil playing in his eyes and finally spoke, "You were saying?"

Livia delicately swallowed the once before she confessed in a rush, "Lord St. James Williamson is my _ex-_fiancé, _happy _now?"

With that embarrassing information out of the way, she dropped her eyes from his own and missed the expression of surprise on Kristos' face. Instead, she attempted to manoeuvre past him on the staircase, a slip down the side, but the width of his barred arm blocked her all the same. It was painfully obvious that he wanted more from her than a simple name.

"How long ago?"

Livia shot him a dirty look for the prying query - was it not enough that he now knew she'd been engaged to _bloody landed_ _gentry_?

"We were introduced on a Monday, he proposed on a Tuesday and I'm sure it was by a Thursday that James' wish for blue blooded children and his plans to use my inheritance _died_ - some might say it's all a bit like Solomon Grundy."

"So it's no wonder that you found my style lacking the other night," he said in tones that neither showed displeasure nor satisfaction at he revelation. "It doesn't surprise me that you're in such high demand."

He stood straight and took his time to straightened the lapels of his jacket before he intercepted another doomed attempt to get past him. Showing a supreme ability for strength, Kristos placed both hands at her hips and lifted her from the side to stand a few steps above him once more.

Livia held a hand to the fragile drape of material at her chest as she stated sarcastically at eye-level, "Inquisitive _and_ strong too, I'll make a note-"

"Jealousy has a tendency to rile my inner demon woman, never provoke it without expecting to appease-"

"What does _it_ usually want?"

She eyed him warily as he gently reached out to capture each of her hands, curled them around his own, and then drew them both from her chest to his lips for a chaste kiss across her knuckles before he then slowly lowered her arms to the side. After the act, he smiled deeply at the tempting picture she presented.

"This is a very becoming dress," he murmured and eyed the swell of breasts artfully draped by the rich material. "Red is favoured colour of mine."

_Don't tell me your demon likes to cross-dress._

Kristos released a bark of laughter as her thought materialised between them. He was more than amused at her small frown which then appeared, but he didn't keep her in suspense for long.

Grasping her feminine hips he pulled her forward to take one step closer to him, but when she resisted the final two, he merely set her off balance with a light tug that propelled her forward into his seemingly precarious hold. With palms pressed upon his shoulders for balance, Livia didn't seem to overly mind the action which brought her into contact with chest.

He warmed her through the thin material of their clothes quite pleasantly.

"Give me just one taste my troublesome sprite, h'm?"

Deep blue eyes appraised him quite thoroughly, seeking a hidden meaning to his request as she remained still in his secure hold. The wonderful colour complemented her fair complexion and accented the truly audacious shade of red lipstick she'd chosen, but it was abundantly clear she wasn't in slightest bit lacking for common sense.

"Why is my brother never around to rescue me when I'm actually in need," she sighed dramatically.

When Kristos did not move or stir, but continued to stare at her with the same request in his eyes, Livia felt a trickle of his thoughts pour into her mind and the revelation made her blush the lightest hue of pink.

"Is your mind always in the gutter?"

"It will be pleasantly wallowing in it tonight if you're wearing that set I brought in-"

"So you _did_ look in the bag, there I thought you were a gentleman," she mocked.

"As much of a gentleman as you are a lady, now come," he paused with a deliberate glance at the deep vee of her chest, "do tell if you're wearing what I saw."

"Kristos," she haughtily began. "You're positively despicable-"

"An entire gentleman is a waste in the bedroom Livia," he cleanly interjected.

On an exasperated sigh she pushed against him in order to regain her more stable height, task completed she then minutely altered the drape of her dress as if he had brought some measure of unwelcome disorder to the piece.

Without further ado she walked determinedly down the stairs to the foyer and once at the foot of the stairs, Livia turned to him with the fabric of her gown splaying widely at her feet.

Not entirely at her heels, Kristos had pivoted to make his own way gracefully down the stairs, but paused when she spoke.

"I hate to disappoint you, but on further reflection I didn't dare risk a _VPL_ tonight-"

"To the uninitiated please," he drawled. "Not every man is as keen on Michael's literary choices-"

"I'm not wearing any underwear Kristos," she said with a perfectly straight face. "I guess you'll be far more comfortable now, won't you?"

She appeared perfectly innocent whilst issuing the statement, but the mere thought sent blood rushing in alternate directions as he took in the gown with a whole new gleam in his eye.

"Have I mentioned I have a private box?"

"You did, now are we going to see it or not?"

_Of course, I can't wait to show you all the darkened corners._

Livia rolled her eyes at the too obvious play and, in an instant, Kristos had phased from where he stood to stand before her again, but even on the second display, it was only slightly less unsettling than the first time he had done so.

Unconcerned, he stood dressed in a long black coat whilst he held a more petite evening cape for her - where the two items had suddenly appeared from, she couldn't be sure.

"What _is _that?"

"We call it phasing," he replied, for once not requiring her to be more specific. "From one known location to another known location - it can be disconcerting."

"_Really?_"

"You're much too beautiful to be sarcastic," he advised. "Whilst I may hear the angels sing at your-"

"Oh stop it, I don't need _empty_ praise."

"My irksome little sprite, my praise is quite genuine. In fact, I would more than willingly retire to the bedroom and call a priest on the morning if you would only let me."

"I doubt Vera Wang could scrounge a dress for me in that time-"

"She's _accepted_."

"I didn't say that," Livia said whilst encouraging him to slide the evening cape around her shoulders.

"What shall we call this then?"

"Does it need a name?"

He placed the warmer material over her and then said as a matter of fact, "You'll be mine in body before the sun rises, I won't have you questioning your place at my side."

"So marriage must be the answer?"

"We've covered my medieval nature before, why shouldn't it be the answer?"

Kristos responded in all seriousness to her glib tones as he took her hand in his own and then placed a kiss in the centre of her upturned palm.

"You're my other half," he simply said as if it was the only truth worth considering.

With care, Kristos curled her fingers with his own and then gently brought her hand to the crook of his arm. In a stunned silence, Livia tried to hide the natural warmth she felt at the words he spoke, but he felt it never the less through their connection and it brought a measure of satisfaction to him as he lead her towards the door.

"You simply have to trust me," he commented as he guided her outside, under the large black umbrella once more, toward the waiting vehicle.

"Can I really trust you?"

Kristos was quite sure that Livia had meant the comment to pass as a light hearted rejoinder, but her vulnerability failed to hide itself beneath the light tone.

"I've given you a secret without safeguards," he replied leaning down towards her as they walked the short distance. "Something that you might use against me-"

"But how would I know if you're not just using something on _me_?"

The idea occurred instantly in Livia's mind. It bloomed with logical connections that gave rise to a possible answer for her inexplicable behaviour towards him, the sheer attraction which she couldn't normalise. After all, if he was capable of so many disturbing _attributes_ then what else might he be able to do?

_Now we both know that is the real lie._

The rain continued to pour down around them as they made their short journey, but Kristos was careful to always put her care first as he gently maneuvered her to enter into the dry interior of the long vehicle. Only once Livia had disappeared under cover, with only a curious glance up at him, did Kristos allow the waiting driver to take the umbrella from himself before he followed her.

Undeniably, Livia had been rather unprepared for Kristos' presence in the back of the moving vehicle or, more accurately, the sheer distraction he represented whilst settled comfortably in the plush interior across from her. In the warmer interior, he had left the lapels of the long coat open to fall at his sides as he rested an elbow on the leather console next to him, but he didn't say another charming word to her as he checked his phone for the details of whatever snippet had caught his attention.

It was if he knew she was working her way through an accepted change of heart.

But as Livia's gaze trailed over his hands and alighted on a gold watch, that just peeked out from the snowy white cuff of his shirt, she realised that she'd reached a peaceable truce with fate much earlier in their dealings. It had been telling that she'd failed to refute his daring statements, that she was content for him to lead their dance.

It was exactly the feeling she had tried so hard to express to Michael.

The sheer pull of this one man couldn't be normal, but pull her he did without so much as beckoning her. Despite his distraction with emails of some nature, Livia resisted the need to press a fingertip to her tingling lips as she avidly recalled the taste of his kiss from their last encounter. Instead, she shifted slightly in her seat and crossed one leg over the other to stare blindly out the window.

As Kristos had stated so confidently, Livia was indeed entranced by the idea of entering into his bargain because just as he had set his sights upon her, he was most definitely within hers. Oddly, the idea of a fairytale seemed to be more permanently solidifying in her mind the longer she regarded his unexpected presence in her life.

As she noted the dark partition separating them from the rest of the world she asked without thinking, "Where are the others?"

"Anxious to see your future sister in-law?"

It was his tone of voice that made her turn to look at him. The sheer glinting devilment in his eyes made her send one last prayer winging up to the heavens in the vain hope that she hadn't broadcast her thoughts.

"Why are you baiting me?"

He was silent for a moment as if debating the wisdom of telling her the truth before he said, "When you're angry there are the most tempting lights in your eyes that beckon me like a fool, and I admit, they are far more pleasant that your fear-"

"I am not afraid of you," was her immediate retort. "In fact, I…"

Livia would have continued to tell him exactly what she had been thinking, but she stopped herself just in time.

"Nothing to add?"

Kristos pocketed the phone he had been checking and eyed his beautiful companion instead.

He had known that the youngest Vandersteine had left everything behind to commit the ultimate sin in the eyes of high society by selling her looks for money, but he had never cared to pursue the matter further. She had only ever been a passing curiosity in the ever changing world of solutions and problems that he was destined to deal with.

But now matters had changed.

Now that he knew Livia was _his_, Kristos took great pride in her delectable appearance as she hopelessly tried to will her thoughts away from him. Stubbornly, she stared out the window at nothing.

With the toe of his dress shoe he gently nudged aside the fabric of her gown at the tail of the nearest slit and before long, the dark red material soon parted decadently to bare the length of her crossed legs adorned in the complicated leather straps of her heeled sandals that wound ever upwards towards her knees.

"It's cold you know," she replied slowly without turning.

"Then why are you all the way over there?"

"Because I'm still carefully treading that line, remember?"

"Ah yes, stupidity and bravery - are you worried I'll take a bite out of that pretty neck of yours?"

"Would you?"

Livia asked it casually enough, but her heart almost stuttered as she turned, eagerly await his answer. She had gleaned the salient facts from their earlier conversation, but she knew precious little considering her unspoken commitment to him.

"Only a small bite tonight as I fulfill that ache of yours," he assured her and she immediately blushed a warm rose along her cheekbones.

"That's so crude-"

"My troublesome sprite, I might just have you whisper the very graphic details of your desires in my ear tonight and then we shall see how your perspective changes," Kristos succinctly cut her off.

He watched her look at the buttons of his shirt before they flitted to another object in pure embarrassment of his words, but despite it all, Livia did nothing to cover her legs from his gaze. It was interesting to consider that whilst she was confident in a display of her body, the same did not ring true in the wording of her passion.

"Are you a virgin?"

At the simple question Livia turned wide eyes upon him and emitted a choked sound so high, that it was barely head to her own ears. She drew in a deep breath on a silent gasp of shock and then bit her lower lip in restraint as she paled profusely with disbelief, but not before she raised her face to the roof of the vehicle and refused to look at him.

_Pointedly _so.

There seemed a moment when Livia was about to blister his ears for asking such a foolish question, but it soon passed as she only rested her head against the seat, her gaze on the roof.

"Are _you,_ Kristos?"

"I didn't ask for the purpose of baiting you-"

"Then _why _did you ask?"

Her eyes flashed fire at him as her head snapped back down, the trace of past perceptions flavouring her tone.

"Because it matters in my care of you," he genuinely said, but when she looked disbelieving he added, "so I'd know if dragging you onto my lap right now is a good idea or not."

"I think you just like to shock me Kristos."

"That's a yes, isn't it?"

"Keep pushing me and you'll also find out that I know exactly where to hit you so it'll _really _hurt-"

"I thought a water sprite was more fond of drowning their victims?"

"I have many talents, although they're different to _yours_," Livia said with a double meaning.

"Touché ma chérie-"

"And I forget you speak French," she sighed. "Tell me, are there others as wonderfully gifted as you?"

The timing of her question and their unexpected arrival at the opera hall could not have been more inconvenient for Livia as she watched the cunning smile grace his handsome features. He knew exactly how disappointed she was as they heard the door latch to herald an interruption.

"You'll just have to see, won't you?"

On those words he moved to exit the vehicle through the open door and turned back to assist her in gracefully exiting onto the sidewalk. With a calm she had no right to feel, Livia placed her hand upon the crook of his arm once more and walked up the shallow steps into the ornate marble foyer.

The large space was unsurprisingly empty considering the first act was already in progress, but as they divested themselves of their coats at the cloakroom and were just making their way up the steps towards the upper circle, Kristos was halted by a sweet greeting.

"My lord," the young woman said with respect and gave a low curtsy.

"Alina," Kristos responded and gave a slight tilt of his head to acknowledge her deference.

She was dressed for the evening in a dark blue gown that completed her pale skin tone together with her even darker hair that was elegantly upbraided upon her head. There was a polite smile issued in Livia's direction, but he felt the subtle tense of his companion's entire being in response as she absorbed the peculiar interaction.

"Jacob informed me that your orders were carried out-"

"I'm well aware of what your brother has done, thank you Alina," Kristos cut her off with a smile. "Now if you will excuse me, I have promised Livia the latter half of tonight's performance if nothing else."

Alina quickly dipped into a curtsy in a proper show of respect before she glided away upon being dismissed. Kristos too, was eager to continue but Livia held him back.

"_My lord?_"

"You're going to miss the entire performance at this rate," he turned on her and slipped an arm around her waist to more firmly guide her towards their destination. "Walk with me at least."

"What is it? The eighteen hundreds?"

Kristos smiled secretly to himself at the edge in her tone, but he didn't refute her statement as an usher too bowed and opened a far door which allowed him to escort her inside a darkened balcony. There were four seats available with two already being occupied by her brother and his other half.

He half wished their company to the devil, but family would be family.

The act was in full swing down below as the music travelled in waves around the auditorium and subsequently the other couple only gave them the slightest of respectful glances before turning back to the main attraction. Under the cover of the music Livia gently arranged her gown around herself as she was seated next to Kristos, just behind the other couple.

Whilst the activity on stage tempted her, she was still more concerned with her companion. As such, she leaned on the armrest towards him with a raised eyebrow. The slight turn of her slender shoulders easily presented him with his favourite view of her dress thus far.

"Eyes up Kristos," she informed him and a choked cough was soon heard from in front of them, but despite the prospect of her brother sitting a few feet away from her, it did not deter Livia from reaching across to lay a hand upon her companion's thigh.

_Are my hands bound with the same restrictions?_

Livia only rolled her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder and then turned her crossed legs towards his own which were outstretched before him. His scent and warmth surrounded her as she listened to the haunting music in the dimly lit arena, as it reverberated perfectly to reach them on the second balcony.

Indeed, it was close enough to her idea of heaven as his gently voice washed over her.

_Does the title really make a difference to us?_

At the question she paused before she tilted her head upwards so that her mouth rested just before his ear. The dark curl of his neat hair rested over his collar as he bent ever so slightly in her direction, apparently eager to hear her words.

"I don't like titles."

_Then it's very fortunate I don't ask anyone to call me by my own._

With a slow, hot exhale that breathed a myriad of sensations against his ear, it was obvious that Livia wasn't happy with his compromise, but she remained close to him as if thinking about how to broach the next topic in her mind.

"I'm relieved you're not entirely medieval-"

_I am warmed by your faith_, came the wry acknowledgement. _Even if you haven't lain in my bed yet._

"_But_," Livia stressed unwilling to be distracted from the topic, "it was the _manner _in which she addressed you that bothered me most."

It wasn't that he'd tensed inadvertently next to her, it was more that she felt the change in his demeanour as she skirted the truth of the matter. With those amber eyes aglow, she watched as he turned completely to regard her for an instant then promptly cast his attention back to the performance.

"My father liked his titles, but no on ever referred to him as their feudal superior," she broached.

_What a very formal description._

"You know what I mean Kristos."

_I'm head of the House of Kostova, it's tradition Livia - for better or worse._

"I intend to ignore your surname," she said.

_Would you not take pity on me instead, ease the burden?_

Twisting a little more in her seat, she leaned further towards her target and then brought the nail of her index finger to trail over the shell of his ear and down the side of his throat until his collar interrupted her foray.

"So there _are_ more of your kind - like you?"

_Many more than you realise._

Livia took his comment at face value, but didn't think to pry further information from him as he reached up to capture her wandering hand in his own and then brought it to his chest.

_Enough Livia, I already have enough thoughts of that dress on my bedroom floor._

"You're taking me home tonight," she said quietly.

He turned to her in the gloom and briefly thought of how she'd react if she knew how wasted her whispers really were. It was only a respect for his position that kept her brother and his own companion forever silent, but all the same, he greatly enjoyed her throaty words that were neither a question nor a statement.

Breathing a kiss across her knuckles he merely gazed at her in the darkened interior - words were unnecessary to the moment.

All too soon, and particularly to Livia's dismay, the house lights began to glow which prompted her quick attempt to untangle herself from Kristos as her brother rose to turn around, but he was having none of her behaviour.

_Wriggle a bit more and I'll put you on my lap._

Livia stilled and slanted him a challenging look at the threat as she still sat forward, but her fingers remained interlaced with his own where they rested on his thigh. His grin grew sly as he correctly guessed at her present discomfort.

"Livia, you arrived at an unusual time," Marc drew her attention towards himself.

Unconsciously, she betrayed her agitation at the comment by tightening her grip on Kristos' hand whilst she also brought her own to her forehead before she remembered there was not a mark to be seen. Just for an instant, Livia seemed speechless before she felt the angry, choppy, pulse of fired retribution predictably spring forth at her brother's criticism.

Careful to appear lazy, he interceded in a test of his influence.

_Livia, it's not worth your anger._

But his sway and ultimate hold with his companion had not truly been put to the test as yet. That moment came when when Marc turned next to Kristos and bowed his head in a characteristic display of respect. Beside him, Celia dropped her head too and respectfully curtsied in an appropriate manner.

The difference in greeting, how he was elevated in distinct comparison to her, would not be lost on Livia.

"The weather was a little trying Marc," she forced out through barely gritted teeth. "I might leave a little earlier next time for the capital."

"I'm only glad to see you made it - would you like a refreshment?"

_There now my sprite, he's all aglow with false authority and you've maintained your temper._

"It's not something I'm proud of," she said to Kristos and took some pleasure in the brief confusion that flitted across her brother's face.

She stood up with an elegant swish of her gown's skirt and said, "Water for me Marc, I'm going for a little walk to stretch my legs."

Kristos felt her bubbling resentment for the deference her brother showed to him and the lack of it she was was blessed with. Beneath her polite words, Livia was doing an admirable job of leashing her temper.

He guessed correctly that she was quiting their company for a stroll, rather than staying to further risk her brother's life.

"Would you like my company?"

He asked it softly for her alone from his lazy position in the seat beside her and was not disappointed when she turned to him with an endearing expression.

"No thank you, I will not be long," Livia stated and did the unexpected.

With hand on the armrest closest to her and a hand upon his knee, she leaned in slowly to kiss him gently, uncaring of her audience for once.

Kristos in turn did nothing to resist the contact as her warm tongue slid over the plush seam of her lips and captured his own for herself. He even kept stock still as the urge to pull her down onto his lap intensified.

Far too aware of the time and place, he was forced to resist the pull of the demon to take what she offered. Uncomfortably, he also strove to subdue the physical changes to his form.

All too soon, she withdrew her intoxicating presence with a slow ascent that gave him an excellent view of her supple flesh. If Kristos had been a betting man, he would have concluded that she had teased him quite deliberately.

Whilst she would deal with her anger, he could deal with his lust.

Livia immediately felt much better as she turned a polite smile on her brother, silently dismissed his companion, and then walked out of the door towards the central foyer. In fact, she felt superb as the fresh memory of Kristos' tension beneath her fingertips sent a spiral of womanly glee through her.

With her arms resting on the cool marble of the balustrade, Livia looked out over the busy foyer with anticipation settling in her bones - just the thought of the hours to come sent a thrill of nervous anticipation through her.

"_Ms Vandersteine?"_

With her train of thought broken, Livia turned to find an older gentleman regarding her with intent. She kept the balustrade at her back as he moved a little closer.

"Livia Vandersteine?"

"Yes, that's my name - who are you?"

"My name is not very important, I'm here on behalf of someone," he said and then glanced around them. "Is there somewhere we can go to discuss this privately?"

"What do you want?"

There was enough suspicion in her voice that made him flinch, but it wasn't with regret - it was with the smoldering embers of anger. Only a flash before it was concealed.

"I'm here on behalf of the Williamson family," he told her without inflection. "They've been unable to reach you."

At the words Livia felt the bottom of her stomach drop a little lower, but she kept her cool indifference intact. She eyed the stranger from the top of his too neatly combed hair to the dull shine of his shoes.

"I take it you know of them?"

"I was recently entangled with one, but it ended-"

"My employer would very much like you to reconsider his offer."

"I thought it was clear when I gave him my answer, I thought it was even clearer when I changed my personal number," Livia said with growing annoyance.

"I don't think you understand Ms Vandersteine, this isn't up for debate," the stranger said on a step forward and quickly took hold of her arm in a vice like grip. "I believe the Williamson family were very much looking forward to you joining their esteemed ranks."

"What a shame, my heart is _bleeding_," she hissed and tried to wrench her arm free of his grip.

The bruising force only increased as the stranger securely held her, so much so that Livia released an inadvertent yelp of pain that attracted more than the curious stares of a few people surrounding them.

Unfortunately for the stranger, it gave life to a cold presence that Livia could feel seeping along a now familiar path she shared with Kristos. Like his ability to find her in the rain, the uncommon presence had the ability to touch.

Seemingly in discomfort the stranger released her sharply as if she'd burned him.

Grateful for the reprieve, Livia took a side step in retreat as she rubbed the red mark upon her arm, but her relief didn't last long as menacing words rang about her ears.

"James Williamson is not a man to take no for an answer Ms Vandersteine, remember that."

With no wish to become caught in the stranger's clutches once more, Livia sharply turned and walked away with her heart beating furiously in her ears. The wash and drain of blood laboured with her breaths as she struggled to wrestle her fright under control.

Unheeded any further, she made no bones about the destination of her sanctuary as she rushed onwards. Almost tripping once or twice in her blind haste.

Livia only hesitated a scant moment to muster a smile before she turned the final bend to greet the usher as he tipped his hat in remembrance and then reached for the door to the box. However, just as he grasped the handle, it was opened with force to reveal Kristos on the other side.

Taking in his intent expression she forcibly smiled her thanks at the usher and then walked into the private balcony area.

The door closed on a soft _click_ behind her.

"Where is Marc?"

Her voice shook ever so slightly as she glanced around the rich interior of red velour and gold leaf.

"Squiring Celia which is exactly what I should have done with you."

Kristos' dark eyes were eagle sharp as they took in her pale colour, but it was as she turned to look down at the stalls below that the bright red fingerprints on her arm became visible to him. The sight of which caused his inner beast to clamour aggressively at its bonds.

He had known that she'd experienced an unpleasant interlude the moment her pain had been communicated to him, but he had failed to capture the depth of the prior detail.

"Livia," he gently called to her despite the demands of the demon. "Talk to me?"

She turned to gaze at him with luminous eyes as the lights from down below cast her features in a partial silhouette. He knew right then that she wasn't going to share her misadventures with him, as clear as ever he felt her surge of independence - the need to save _herself_.

"It was a friend of a friend, nothing I can't handle," she replied on a quaver.

"I think that darkening bruise will say different," he offered without inflection.

On small steps Livia came to stand before him and rested her hands on the lapels of his jacket.

"It will, I know, but I don't want to talk about it," she entreated honestly with a small shake of her head and then smoothed her hands along the white silk scarf that edged out from beneath the lapels. "_Please_ Kristos."

Her warmth was solid, unblemished beneath his touch as his hands came to rest on her hips and her own hands continued to cling to him in gradually weakening waves of fear. The level of discontent, how unsettled she was, drove his logical mind to take action, but her heartfelt plea triggered something stronger.

Already half won, it only aided her appeal when she trustingly leaned into him to give a soft sigh of resignation against his neck before making no secret of breathing him in to steady her, content in his capable hold.

Against his better judgement, Kristos allowed her the small favour as his chin came to rest upon her head.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

"_to the benefit of the road not taken"_

Livia stood before an impressive view of the main river that snaked its way through the city. Beyond the floor to ceiling glass of Kristos' living room she could see as far as the varying lights of the city allowed and a little way into the ink black of the surrounding land.

It was gorgeous, but she couldn't help her itch for a draw of nicotine.

Whilst she could not have asked for a better evening with Kristos himself, the strange incident with the mysterious man had played in the back of her mind for sometime. So much so that she had been sorely tempted to inform Michael that a favour from one of their, older, acquaintances might have been required after all.

But even as the worry ate at her, Livia couldn't help but also dismiss James' latest antics as obscene. He had readily displayed the qualities of a spoiled child on the few occasions she'd stepped out with him about town and his fits of pique had always passed like a spring shower - _surely_ he would give up now?

Livia would wait until the last moment possible before she ever sought Michael's connections, things didn't have to get, _messy_.

Besides, if the disturbing stranger had stayed then he couldn't have missed the fact that her allegiance now well and truly belonged to another man as she had remained by Kristos' side the rest of the night. Ever solicitous, he had showed familiar care for her rattled state without pressing any further for the cause.

Still, she doubted he'd appreciate the scent of a Marlboro cigarette anywhere in his spacious penthouse. He didn't seem the type to appreciate a vice. With eyes straying to the room behind her, Livia took a glance at the soft furnishings that were so at odds with the urban location of the building.

It seemed Kristos had deliberately opted for comfort in all the things that were chosen, hard wearing woods and soft fabrics gave her an insight into his simpler tastes. Unexpectedly, he also had several orchids in charming ceramics that did not overly attract attention, but were there all the same.

Indeed, one plant had her take a double glance as she correctly spied a Devil Flower.

_Interesting_, was all she mentally remarked to herself.

Of course, like any man she had known, Kristos still seemed to have a good proportion of gadgets that supplemented his home. Lacking the garishly obvious quality in chosen design - the theme was still very much present.

Eyeing the enormous flat screen television at one end of the room she reached down and found the hidden zip that ran from knee to ankle on the inside of each of her shoes to release her feet. Leaving them were they lay, her soles ached after her long, long day as she walked to the seated area and gratefully sank down at the end of a settee. With her back against the armrest, legs drawn in, Livia tilted her head back and turned to stare out the window again.

Kristos paused as he entered the living room to enjoy the pleasant sight of Livia at ease in his home. With only the softest of light illuminating her angelic appearance, she was comfortably lost in the night time view beyond the floor to celing panes of glass.

"Why do you live in the city?"

She sensed his presence on the periphery and voiced the question softly in the quiet of the room. When he was slow to respond, Livia turned her head in his direction and watched him rub a hand over his heart with a brief look of surprise.

"You would obviously much rather enjoy the countryside."

He was struck by the sudden revelation of a familiar ache, but her accurate assessment took away his chance to indulge in his own thoughts as he walked the few paces to stand beside her. Of course, her eyes expected an answer.

"My home in the capital is necessary for business and pleasure," he said.

The later statement referred to her presence rather than that of any before her, but at the narrowing of her gaze she took it to mean otherwise.

"Are you jealous my troublesome sprite?"

He handed her a warm mug and despite her expression, she took it from him before he walked to the other end of the settee. Removing his white scarf and evening jacket, he tossed them aside before waiting pointedly for her response.

To his surprise, she was brutally honest.

"Yes, it would hurt my feelings to know that this was a well practised routine," Livia said.

He paused in the act of removing his cuff links to watch silently as she placed the mug to one side and then fluidly rose to come and stand before him. With her smaller hands she reached towards him and smoothly removed each of the accessories for him.

As she rolled the sleeves back to her satisfaction, Kristos said over her down turned head, "Then your feelings are quite safe in my hold."

"They had better be my _Lord Kostova_," she mimicked Alina's tones awfully well and then returned to her seated position with an exaggerated exhale. "I can now see why you thought it was so funny that you'd be entertaining my brother - how surprising when there was an even greater lord of the manor running about."

She gave up on arranging the skirt of her gown in a modest fashion and allowed the length of her legs to be bared by the high slit as she curled them towards herself. With grace she lifted the warm mug into her hands once more and then peered at him over the rim.

"Cocoa?"

"You've not eaten since breakfast, but you're too stubborn to force a meal upon-"

"You can cook?"

"Surprisingly well, for a _man_," he stressed for her benefit.

"That remains to be seen," Livia informed him as she watched him loosen the buttons at his throat. "Still, aren't you supposed to offer me coffee?"

Kristos sank onto the sofa next to her and slowly extended his hand out to grasp a feminine ankle. With a small application of pressure, one of her small feet came to rest on his lap and he then took his thumbs to her aching instep.

On her sigh of pleasure he said, "Drink it, or I'll stop."

Livia flexed her toes in a small display of rebellion at his tone, but did as she was asked all the same. When she lowered the half finished brew of sweet chocolate to one side her attention was all for Kristos.

Leaning back against the arm of the seat with both of her feet in his lap she felt a sense of strange domesticity with the picture. She'd never imagined being as comfortable with a man that she found so undeniably attractive, but she was.

His hair was darker in the soft light, short and normally styled neatly, but for the moment a forelock fell across his brow as he worked to alleviate her small discomfort. Indeed, Kristos looked a little less than his perfectly attired self this late into the night. His face showed signs of shadow and his clothing was rumpled - the latter, at her direction admittedly.

Crisply attired or not, the fine angles of his face appealed to her - she'd have to remember to breathe in order to say _I do_ with any success.

The object of her thoughts released a very masculine laugh and she knew that he'd heard her thought. It didn't bother her as much as she thought it might.

"Kristos," she started in a different vein. "You're really going to be two-hundred and fifty soon aren't you?"

"I saw no reason to lie to you," was all he said.

"You don't look that old-"

"Most Undying don't reflect their age, but I _am_ ageing I promise."

She seemed to absorb his comment without further questions for the moment, but as he traced the delicate arch of her feet, Kristos knew there would be more.

"You're head of the House of Kostova," she said.

"I am."

"No, you're _head _of the House of Kostova," she said again. "And, if the Kostova name _is_ the pinnacle of the old society then that must mean you hold some sort of position, an elite position."

She issued it as a statement with a curious look in her eye.

"Have I mentioned that I find your powers of observation startling?"

Kristos leaned against the settee with an arm settled on the ridge closest to Livia, his other hand remained to loosely shackle a slim ankle in a gently possessive gesture.

"If Alina is like you, then, you're more powerful than she is given her treatment of you earlier," Livia hesitantly voiced her logic out loud as she studied his expression. "You said your demon is the root of your abilities, so each Undying is blessed as an individual-"

"_Blessed _is a charming description, some have countered that we are succinctly cursed," he broke in, but she ignored the comment.

"Not every one of your kind possesses the same talent or ability, do they?"

"Beauty and brains," he praised her without a smile.

"What's your full title among the Undying?"

"Who says I have a title?"

"Says a casual observer," she said on a tilt of her head. "That woman almost scraped the floor with-"

"_Why_ do you want to know?"

"Because it'll affect me, I'm not about to marry without knowing what I'm getting entangled with-"

"You'd join with me anyway Livia," he said and reached with his closest arm to snag a golden curl that lay against her neck.

"Then tell me because I'm curious, because you want to tell me."

Kristos regarded her for a full moment before he said anything. He debated the wisdom of how much she should know of the Council's inner workings, but in the end she owned enough of his demon to finally make the decision irrelevant.

"I am the Undying Lord of the Earthen Plane, second of my misbegotten line," he admitted quietly whilst gently curling the wheat coloured lock around his fingertips. "Much to my eternal punishment."

"Why is it a punishment?"

"Responsibility for my kind can be heavy," Kristos said simply.

He watched curiously as her blue eyes deepened to the colour of sapphires as her empathy bubbled to the surface, like the wildcat she had been determined to save - Livia looked at him with the same dogged determination.

"Then I look forward to interrupting your serious schedule to demand your company in the rain, or at the opera, and especially for swim nights," she said on turning her cheek into his hand. "Particularly in the rain."

"Swim nights," he repeated.

"Yes," she stated firmly then added, "I didn't even get a chance to model my new purchase for you-"

"No you didn't, will you now?"

"What a shame I've left it _all _at Hunter's Fall," she replied innocently.

"Yes, it is," came Kristos' reply.

He watched her lips curl gently into the most becoming smile that teased him only a little whilst her body relaxed further at his modest touch. There was no question that she was tired after the day she'd experienced, but he also sensed her happiness at merely being with him.

It was comfortable for them both.

"Do you like Hunter's Fall?"

In a swift change of tact she rested her cheek on his hand and waited patiently for his answer.

"It's your home-"

"It's a monstrosity, if it hadn't been for my mother and Greta..."

She stopped her words abruptly and lifted her head to regard him suspiciously. It might have been the quiet, the time to think after the relentless pace of her day, but suddenly many things were starting to make sense at an alarming rate.

"Greta is like you, isn't she?"

"Yes," Kristos replied slowly to her question, willingly for her to set the pace of discovery.

She took his honest answer in her stride as the cogs continued to whir away in her mind.

"Is that why my father and Marc have near enough wanted to give up their souls to be near your family?"

"There is only myself to bear the Kostova name," he said carefully.

"But they've wanted to be like you?"

"You're brother is already an Undying Livia."

Kristos refrained from movement as her fresh confusion poured down their private path of communication. He opted only for truths, but they were bare truths rather than the entire tale that would likely send her fleeing in the opposite direction.

"He can't be, he's my brother - like _me_."

"But he had a different mother-"

"But that would mean my father was an Undying," she frowned. "He died."

Kristos remained silent rather than refute the half truth she possessed. Indeed, her father had died in the eyes of the human world. But rather than allow her to dwell upon the details of the very public death scene, he steered the conversation effortlessly in the direction of her own make up.

"You're half an Undying Livia, not a full as your mother was entirely mortal-"

"That's ridiculous," she denied the truth strongly.

"As ridiculous as a man of my age to sit before you?"

"But I'm _me_, I'm not some," she paused before she uttered the word _vampire_ and instead, chose something less inflammatory, "_Undying_ creature."

Livia became truly agitated at the prospect. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to be true. As clear as day her thoughts chased across her face, to her it was now equally possible that his interest might diminish if she failed to show any suspected traits of his kind.

"I'm not like you," she said with eyes falling down to her lap as she attempted to withdraw from him, but he held tight.

"You'll have inherited a demon Livia, but awoken or not - it doesn't make the slightest bit of difference between us."

His words were only a slight balm to the sting she had fostered, but still, she didn't immediately look up at him. It was too neat surely? That such a catch would drop the world before her?

"Ask your questions and let my answers form the basis of your judgement," Kristos said with only a small sigh of resignation. "Innocent until proven guilty, remember?"

In the scant moments that followed, she shifted slightly, but made no move to withdraw from his touch again. Her mind seized on the tumble of thoughts that occurred to her before she picked the most pressing line of enquiry.

"Did my mother know?"

"Your mother was aware of Dmitri's odd habits, but she didn't question it-"

"She _never_ left Hunter's Fall, she must have known," Livia bit.

The acidic regard for her father was clear as her voice rose with the latter statement.

"I confess to not spending any of my time with them to-"

"Dmitri Vandersteine served his own purposes," she interrupted him again with the faint flush of anger rising with the stubborn set of her shoulders. "If he's the model for your kind I want _no_ part in it."

"Whatever occurred between them has no place here, not between us, so remember that before you start to paint me with the same tar," he staunchly informed her with a keen ability to take the wind from her sails. "You are to me what we call a _twin soul-"_

"I know you're not my father Kristos," she started with an apology even though she sliced through his words once more. "I didn't mean to imply you were like my father."

He waited a scant moment before he continued to say, "Indeed, you'll find that I try my hardest not to emulate our forefathers."

He was so serious that Livia felt a resounding pang of regret at her hasty words and equally uncharitable thoughts, but she equally sensed there was more to his comment than was visible at first glance. She briefly wondered what his father had been like - Kristos had made it abundantly clear that he was the only member of his house.

"When I joked Marc was inhuman, I had no idea it was literal," she smiled wryly at him.

In the lightening of the atmosphere, Kristos accepted the subtle change of topic and followed the line of her leg from ankle to knee with the pads of his fingers in a smooth motion. Like a tangible essence, he felt her curiosities instantly widen as her defences lessened with the ultimate faith in his character and the sensation of his light touch.

"What does that mean anyway?"

In a show of how connected they were to one another, Kristos had no need to clarify her question. Instead, his hand continued to roam the trails of her soft skin as he intimately communicated with her.

_It means your soul calls to my demon, calls to me._

"To," she paused with a small frown, "_bite_ me?"

_I want you beside me in all things Livia - body, mind and blood._

"But you can't have me all the time," she replied automatically. "I'm certainly not about to live as long as you _have_."

He sighed and said, "You have a demon Livia, one that will make itself known when it chooses, but as I've already said - it doesn't matter to me."

Intent on the logic of his answer, Livia tried her best not to react as his warm hand glided along the underside of her calf muscle and then gently teased the soft skin behind her knee. On the simple, but decadent action a horrifying thought occurred to her.

"Wait, how many wives have you _had_?"

Kristos felt her tense to pull away as she jumped to a conclusion too absurd to refute in detail, but she failed to break away as he shackled her ankle once more with considerable ease.

"No wives, but I'm now considering that the one I want is more trouble than she is worth-"

"Your _that_ old and you've never married?"

As easily as that, Livia accepted his explanation and then insulted him all the same.

With an aggravated gleam in his eye he responded, "Let's not confuse a tumble with a marriage Livia."

Instead of prompting the expected reaction of chagrin, her voice whipped right back with, "God forbid we make that mistake, you've probably been around the block once or twice."

"If only just to ensure you are suitably satisfied with my performance," he said and won the war of words as she gave in to a becoming blush.

"Don't be a jerk, I was just shocked-"

"That I might have been repeating this seduction for the last two-hundred years on numerously gullible women to make them my wife?"

"_Well,_" she started.

"Do you have any idea how much effort that would be?"

"I forget that _tumbles_ are so much easier," Livia countered with vinegar.

Piqued, she folded her arms beneath her breasts and whether she intended it or not, the action was suitably distracting for Kristos. He waited more than was seemly before he was able to drag his gaze back up to her face.

"You're focusing on the wrong aspect my troublesome sprite," he said calmly as he took in her raised eyebrow. "This," he paused and indicated between them, "does not happen very easily."

"So I'm _special _then?"

The sarcasm he thought her too beautiful for was very much evident.

"More than you know, there is only one of you for me Livia-"

"In more than two-hundred years?"

"In more than two-hundred years," he assured her and slid a hand back up her calf muscle. "How else could I be patient enough with your independence?"

"You noticed that, did you?"

Livia asked him the question as she lightly adjusted her position to lie lower and closer to him - at the subtle hint, Kristos moved his fingertips higher.

"I have noticed many things about you," he said and smoothed the pads of his fingers over her knee.

Sensing a change and seemingly unsatisfied with their current position, he lifted himself in one smooth motion to place a knee on the wide seat and then, with both hands on her hips, pulled her towards him. She came easily enough on a slither of silk at his demanding strength and finally lay completely flat upon the settee before him.

"What else have you noticed Kristos?"

With her arms resting above her head, she arched her back subtly in a small stretch as a clear invitation for him to do his worst with body and mind. Determined to have what she wanted this time, Livia only increased the temptation for her poor shadow as she lifted one leg to bend at the knee and caused the matte red fabric of the gown to slither down in a guilty heap.

Naked, the smooth lines of her leg taunted him.

"Many things," he finally replied in a voice roughened by want.

Kristos leaned over a pliant Livia with one hand supporting his weight beside her head whilst his other was free to roam. He took pleasure in resting it at her hip as he examined the cut of the gown with an eagle eye.

"Tell me, how _do_ I unwrap you?"

"Here I thought you were the practiced playboy about town," she said with cheek and enjoyed the spark that entered his eye.

She drew her hands down to her sides and then splayed her fingers over the warmth of his abdomen before pulling at the tails of his shirt to loosen them from his trousers, but instead of gliding her palms over his accessible skin, Livia began to undo the remaining buttons.

With her task complete, she eagerly raised herself up from the cushions to press her front to his own as much as possible. At the soft press of her breasts, Kristos hung his head in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply.

"You're always so warm," Livia crooned as she linked her arms around his torso

"Because you are always so cold," he equally replied and gently nipped her ear.

She gave a soft feminine sound of laughter and retreated back down, but not before she demanded, "Take it off completely."

"I think I should, at least, have one item of yours in exchange," he challenged.

"That seems fair," she agreed easily before he could add anything further and then promptly released her hair from the loose knot it had been kept in.

To him, she presented the small, clawed clip with a large smile.

He knew he had been pleasantly outsmarted and gave in graciously to lean back in order to slide the shirt from his shoulders, but before he was finished he heard her say, "You might as well deal with the shoes and socks too."

She reclined comfortably with an index finger to her devilled pout as she surveyed every inch of him bared with an appreciative eye. When he moved further away to sit on the edge of the sofa to do as he was bid, she rolled onto her hip and rested her head on a bent arm.

"I promise I'll even let you know where the zip is-"

"There had better be only one zip," Kristos murmured on removing the last black sock.

"_Silk _socks?"

"At my age, one learns the importance of comfort whilst looking good at the same time my troublesome sprite," he replied to Livia's surprised tone.

Turning back to her, Kristos reached for her hands and placed them on his bare chest before he lowered himself once more over her. She didn't need his encouragement as her fingertips carefully traced the lean ridges of muscle, each tensing at her gentle foray.

"Kristos?"

He made an appropriate sound in response, but he was more concerned with gliding a palm over the side of her gown in order to locate the fabled zip than he was aware of her words. It was only at her second question that they pierced their mark.

"What will really happen when I grow older?

So simple, but it brought Kristos to a stand still as he recognised the genuine fear in her eyes at the thought of her being forever apart from him. Whilst the fragility of her emotions was tangible, the evidence that she was as attached to him as he was to her was pleasing in the extreme.

For despite his confident claims, Livia was not entirely of his kind and a small part of him had wondered if she would feel the continuous pull to him as strongly as his demon called for her. Perhaps unfairly, his spirits lifted at her downcast fears for their future.

"When you are ready, it will happen-"

"But what if it, _doesn't?_"

"Then I will force stasis if I have to-"

"To make me like you?"

"To make you like me," he assured her gently and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But, I think you'll have a much sweeter demon when the time comes."

"Will it hurt?"

The curiosity that Livia felt in most regards of life shone through her blue eyes as she looked to him for a truthful answer. At the look of such trust, he was powerless not to give her what she needed.

"I don't intend to ever let you hurt Livia," Kristos replied in all seriousness.

"That I can believe," she said apparently satisfied with his answer and then used her hands to pull him even closer to her, close enough to whisper in his ear, "the zip is on the other side Kristos."

As soon as the words had left her mouth, he changed hands to lean on another whilst searching with a newly freed limb. He was not disappointed when he found the tell-tale track of teeth that gave way on a downward pull.

From just beneath her arm all the way down to the curve of her hip the gown he had so admired parted and allowed him to gently pull the material down from her shoulders to her waist thereby displaying her flesh that had teased him all night.

Full, pale, high breasts quavered ever so slightly with her swift intake of air as she lay like a prize before him. Unable to resist the sight, he slowly passed the pad of his thumb over a pink nipple and watched as her areola tightened in welcome anticipation of the action.

Her siren's exhale demanding more.

"Beautiful," he praised and repeated the action with her other breast.

Laying beneath his larger form, vulnerable to his touch, Livia didn't feel the slightest edge of nervous trepidation. Instead, she felt hungry to reach the barrier of their usual play and move beyond it onto avenues untold. With her hands she latched firmly onto his belt and tugged.

Apparently lost in admiring the tantalising flesh bared by her gown, Kristos eventually met her gaze as the impatient action was repeated.

"There is more to me than my breasts you know," she said.

"Ah, but is there anything more sensitive?"

Livia looked at him with a small smile that spoke volumes for her lack of carnal knowledge, but it also revealed her faith in him, that he would never abuse her trust. At the sight, it sparked a rumble of agreement from the demon that resided within him, never would they intentionally harm their prize.

With unhurried movements he braced his weight over both of his arms and then lowered his head towards a breast. Blowing gently on the object of his rapt attention first, he then delivered a long lick to the pebbled bead and Livia instantly shifted beneath him as a sure sign of her restlessness.

Her blue eyes gazed at him, deepened further with wanton depth, and the pulse of her blood rushed to complement the high bones of her face in a blush of sexual need.

"Tell me how that felt," he asked her with a hooded gaze.

"Good," she responded with a husky drawl.

"Good enough that you want it again?"

"_Yes_," she answered and tugged insistently on his belt.

At the command Kristos ran his tongue over her other breast, but he didn't stop as she expected him too. Instead, he put his hot mouth over the tip of her breast and pulled with a gentle suction between swipes of his tongue over the engorged peak.

The repeated sensation warmed her thoroughly and quite instinctively, Livia reached upwards to curl her hands in the strands of his hair. It felt sublime as he teased her breasts, leaving them aching for something more.

"_Kristos_," she throatily entreated beginning to show the signs of a possessed lust.

"What my sprite?"

He asked the question between small bites that reddened her pale skin as he traversed up to her vulnerable throat.

"It aches," she complained and shifted her hips simultaneously.

Livia moved her hands deftly from his hair to his neck as she silently demanded a kiss that had been previously so fulfilling. But of course, previously, Kristos had taken his time and placed limits upon their play.

"Where does it ache?"

He felt her insistence in the very marrow of his bones and allowed her to lead him in order for her eager lips to collide with his own because despite his heavy need to own and control their first encounter, Kristos also felt his dominance begin to willingly crumble as she cleverly indulged their kiss.

With the timed capture of his tongue with her own, she imitated his earlier action at her breasts and sucked none too gently at her prize. Enthralled, his head became filled with thoughts of what other places she could perfectly mimic the act as his feelings gradually poured over into her own - helping to drive them both a little higher.

"Please Kristos," she begged with need.

He felt her break their kiss on that plea with a true sense of loss only to trail her hands back down to his belt, but instead of giving an encouraging tug once more, Livia unlatched the clasp and reached for the button with her nimble fingers.

"Slower Livia-"

His entreaty was cut short as she undid that single button with the sound of a zip following thereafter. Already, he could feel the subtle shift in his physical form taking over as she encouraged his demon to surface.

"I don't want slow," she said softly. "I want _now._"

"But you need it-"

His words died a quick death as one of her hands stole inside the opening to encounter silk boxers, she didn't stop but boldly slipped under the waistband to find him hot and aroused for her.

"I want you like no other man Kristos," Livia breathed against his neck, playfully delivering small bites. "I've never begged another to take me like this."

She felt a shudder run through his entire body as her calculated words pierced their mark and she revelled in the reaction only _she_ could cause. In her hand she felt his thickness pulse with a life of its own, it only increased as she tightened her grip and rocked her fist up and down.

"_Livia_," he tried again.

The sound of his voice was roughened significantly from its usual measured tones and she delighted in the glow of amber that came to stare down at her over sharpened features. Around her, he caged her with arms - tense with the temptation to cave to her will.

"I want you to though," she shifted in a tiny movement that widened the angle of her hips before she slowly leaned forward to lick the stressed tendons in his neck before adding, "to _take_ me that is."

At the final statement she felt something shift between them, a darker energy that rose up from the recess of Kristos and permeated their connection completely, but rather than be afraid she welcomed the blackened side to his nature as it poised to settle more forcibly within her soul.

With her ready acceptance, Kristos briefly moved away from her and she was forced to release him from her grip with a mewl of dissatisfaction, but her apparent abandonment didn't last long as he freed himself under her rapt gaze and returned to her.

In recompense for leaving, no matter how brief, he laved attention generously over her aching breasts once more, but although partially lost to the sensation he evoked, she still heard the distinct rip of metallic foil. It sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine as she knew what was to come.

Blanketing her scantily clad body with his heat, she felt him push up the gown at her hips and settle hotly before her centre. He stared down at her with those deep eyes, framed by thick lashes and for a moment her heart stuttered at the wave of emotion that broke over her.

"With my demon as a witness Livia, you are mine," he promised.

The words hung between them, but to her eternal surprise he didn't immediately push his advantage. He watched for her reaction, the light of acceptance in her expressive eyes before he pushed his hips towards her own.

Like the answer to her ache, his hard length pushed into her wet heat and she purred her content until the barrier of her innocence was reached. Tighter and tighter the burning sensation wound, her discomfort threatening to take over from her pool of lust, and it telegraphed in the sharp move she made to lessen his seemingly blunt intrusion, but she stilled with unspoken trust as he hushed her gently.

"Slower my sprite," he pleaded with deep tones.

Leaning his weight on one arm he brought the hand of his other between them and pressed an index finger against her lips until she allowed them to curiously open. At his encouragement she swirled her tongue around his finger, brushing the pad in a titillating movement, but to her confusion he soon withdrew and then moved that hand lower between their bodies.

To her slippery folds he dipped that same finger and teasingly rubbed her pearled treasure. His touch renewed her pleasure like magic as it moved round and round, over and over, until Livia was unconsciously rocking her hips under him.

"Tell me how that feels my dear-"

"Kristos," she panted beneath him on the verge of something enthralling.

"Do you want me to take you?"

She mewled her want, shifting in ever increasing movements as her blood sang to his.

"Tell me Livia-"

He had wanted to hear her beg him to take her, to be sure of causing her the least discomfort, but Livia had other ideas as she trailed her hands down his back to his rear and then pulled as she thrust her hips upwards. In one sharp moment, his form was pressed flat against her own, the barrier no more as the pain resonated within.

"Such impatience," Kristos said as he rested on his elbows and tested the limits of his restraint, smoothing her golden hair from her face in a gesture of comfort to them both.

With pleasure, he felt the walls of delicate feminine muscle around his length grip him in equal parts of desire and belated shock at the sudden intrusion, but around him she began to gradually adjust to the different sensations.

"Can you feel me, deep inside?"

She watched him with those soul destroying eyes and wet her bottom lip before she asked, "Touch me like you did before?"

The glow of an orgasm was resting just beneath Livia's features as she flushed with desire for him at the tentative words.

"My darling, I will strive to give you something even better," Kristos promised and raised himself to lavish attention upon her sensitive peaks once more.

With his mind he deliberately reached out to her, tempting her to join him in the pursuit of pleasure as he shared the tormenting sensation of remaining still within her hot, wet body. It was not long before she reciprocated her own want as the undeniable feelings evoked by his mouth on her flesh intensified.

Soon, Livia caught the fever that grew between them and the bloom of passion glazed her heavy lidded eyes as he looked down upon her. At his first shallow thrust, she exhaled in a rush of pleasure, at his second, deeper, thrust she arched her back and met him with a tilt of her hips, and by the third thrust she repeated the action again, but also bent her head back for him.

Instinctively, she offered him the means to sate the demon's craving in bloodlust, but better yet - to also complete a bond of souls. He had felt her acceptance of the mind, in the give of her body and finally, he would also have the acceptance of a higher state.

At her growing vocalised commands, Kristos pushed hard at every thrust and denied his need to give in until she all but moaned his name in an urgent plea for release. Only then did he lean down and sharply puncture the pulsing vein in her neck with a clean strike that sent her gasping for air.

He knew she would feel the sting, but ultimately timed the moment with a thrust to turn her pleasure bitter-sweet. It worked to heighten her erotic torment as her delicate muscles clenched in anticipation around him and forced him to drive harder towards completion.

One, twice and third time more he rocked into her and then they both gave in to a higher calling with a striking pleasure flooding their bloodstreams.

He sealed his dark kiss at the heralded moment and pressed his lips to her neck as every muscle tightened on release whilst she arched further and screamed her own long and loud.

Somewhere in the midst of his mind, he felt the brush of a darker inhabitant rise up within her to meet the need of his demon as the call to bind drew stronger in that moment, like it would always do with their kind, but the fleeting impression soon disappeared to be replaced by languid satisfaction. It took hold and he thought nothing of the prior trace of her demonic soul.

Despite the overlooked episode, Kristos had achieved his aim for now - she was his by blood, in mind, and of body. There was nothing that would keep them apart, demon soul realised or not.

In the aftermath, as their hearts slowed to a more sedate rhythm, Livia enjoyed the heavy press of Kristos' form as she lay unmoving beneath his warm body. Intimately joined, she felt a hard ache as the uncomfortable proportions of the make-shift bed started to make themselves known, but she was loath to move all the same.

In the quiet she finally heard a muffled Kristos say against her damp neck, "The countryside it will have to be."

He shifted to place his weight on his forearms and then drew up, away from her sated body with kiss. With tired eyes she watched him return nearly instantly, crushing her expected perception. Instead, he encouraged her to make space for him where she lay and then gently lifted her to lay half over his chest.

Unable to contain her delight, she pleasantly nestled against his chest whilst he toyed with the length of her hair as her breaths feathered lightly over his skin.

Curling the lighter strands repeatedly around his fingertips, he rumbled lazily beneath her, "Somewhere without any neighbours."

Sensing his need for her to ask, she finally queried, "In the country, without any neighbours - why's that?"

"Because you'll be exercising those lungs far too regularly for the city," he replied in all serious.

In response, a sleepy smile broke over Livia relaxed features.

Laying with one slim leg curled over his own, her gown undoubtedly ruined and not even completely unhooked with the blood of her innocence likely smeared across the inside of her thighs - Livia felt genuine love take hold at the realisation she would happily follow him anywhere.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

"_to the rhythm of easy domesticity"_

In the vague reflection thrown by the glass door of the oven, Livia could just see a faint scar that was composed of two, short, parallel tracks which sat high up on her neck. It wasn't painful to the touch, there was simply a strange sensation that echoed all over her body whenever she gently ran the pads of her fingers over the small mark.

It seemed to enliven her connection with Kristos if anything else.

"The bathroom has a mirror you know," came the familiar masculine tones from behind her.

At them, Livia hastily spun away from the front of the high oven to face him. She had expected him to be some feet away, but there he was, _right_ behind her. Just as she made a move to take a step backwards, Kristos moved forwards and captured her around the waist to block her retreat.

In a sharp contrast, he was already fully dressed in three piece suite in her favourite colour of slate whilst her hair ran in damp tangles down her back and the bath sheet she had hastily wrapped herself in didn't seem quite capable of holding out against his inquisitive hands.

_I'm only disappointed that I didn't rise in time to join you._

At his unspoken words she blushed a deep pink, unfailingly embarrassed by the images he so readily communicated to her. She turned her head away as he bent to kiss her, but he was not at all deterred by her demure show - instead, his lips landed across her exposed neck.

"Good morning wife," he said and ran his hands along the soft cotton of the bath sheet, moulding it to the softer form beneath.

"_Wife-to-be_," she replied.

"This," he said and drew her hair away from the mark she had been examining, "is my sole claim on your delectable hide, others need not apply."

"Charming," Livia wryly commented.

"Ah, but my gorgeous sprite - I'm still planning on hearing the church bells toll."

"You do things in a roundabout way, don't you?"

"You can still wear white if you like, I promise to not to tell in exchange for lip service," he said with a touch of devilment in his eyes.

"_Kristos_," she emitted in a squeak and weakly slapped a hand against his chest. "I can't believe you'd say such a thing-"

A beeping noise suddenly went off behind her as the oven made itself known and she was forced to earnestly try for release from his arms. Of course, she was careful to keep the towel in place as she pivoted away from him in order to turn the oven off.

"You have been busy," he commented as he finally looked around the kitchen.

He noted with pleasure that she had made herself quite at home, but was still somewhat surprised at how a neat cook she appeared to be. Everywhere, there were signs of her busy nature from the freshly squeezed orange juice to the hot pot of coffee, but not a single sign of disorder could be found.

_Greta was never fond of a mess_, she silently communicated to him.

His eyes snapped to her at the words which resounded so freely within his mind. It was the first time that she had initiated a shared link with him, the first time that she had also chosen not to voice the though out loud. It was odd that she should have been able to complete the feat without a demon in earnest, but he pushed the matter aside - to him, it was surely only a question of time before her true nature finally arose.

"I guessed that you'd prefer a quick breakfast," she hesitantly said and placed a tray of French Breakfast Muffins on the granite island.

The smell of the buttery treats infiltrated his senses as the glaze of sugary cinnamon tempted him to take one.

"You made me breakfast?"

"Don't feel obliged, I can see you're ready to leave," Livia said quickly. "It was nothing really."

She released the oven mitts to drop at the side as she reached for a half empty mug of strong black coffee. It was well past a late afternoon lunch and fast approaching the on set of early evening, but the kick was heavenly all the same.

"Livia," he said knowingly and walked the scant distance towards her. "I feel more than obliged."

At the comment she pierced him with a blue eye, but allowed him to take the warm mug from her and then place it on the counter to one side. He next brought a hand to her nape and then reeled her closer for a chaste kiss.

"_More_ than obliged, I'm grateful you want to look after me," he said softly. "I've not been personally treated to my own baker before."

"I made them because you spoke quite a lot of French last night."

"Did I?"

He crowded closer to her with the counter at her back as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on throat, right where his mark surreptitiously resided. As his warm breath fanned over her cooler skin, Livia felt awareness tingle right along her senses as the pressure of his lips became known.

It was _heaven_.

"You did, but I didn't mind," Livia generously offered whilst tilting her head back.

At his deep husk of laughter she explored the lapels of his suit to slide within the warmer interior of the unbuttoned jacket before beginning to trail over the fitted waistcoat beneath. She would have started to undo the neat little buttons, but Kristos' grip was quicker as he pulled her hands back to his shoulders.

"I have Council this morning," he offered by way of apology. "As much as I would enjoy my Second's face at the surprise, I can't be late."

But even as he said the words, Kristos still slid his hands to her small waist and then lifted her easily onto the kitchen worktop.

"You can't reschedule?"

He stepped purposefully between her inviting legs, but replied, "Tradition my little sprite."

"How _boring_," she conceded with a dramatic sigh and then waylaid his wrists just before he attempted to trace the curve of her breasts. "I wouldn't want you to be _late._"

With a sense of wry disappointment he allowed her to move each of his wandering hands to either side of her towel covered thighs, but it was at that point that something entirely different occurred to him.

"Why are you not dressed?"

An uncomfortable look crossed her features as she unconsciously bit her lower lip. Curiously, she seemed well aware that there was a whole wardrobe of female clothing set aside for her use, but she had never used it.

"Why?"

"I didn't know _whose_ they might have been," she said, but at the gathering tension in his shoulders added, "you have to admit, it's a little strange-"

"They are all yours - in _your_ size and _your_ favourite colours," he countered and pushed into her personal space. "Not another woman has _ever _been brought here-"

"I don't need to know _that_," she quickly stated with a straightening of her shoulders and a refusal to look directly at him.

Kristos grasped her chin as he forced the point, "No other woman Livia, they're for you and only _you_."

"Oh-"

"_Oh?_"

"Oh," she insisted at his disbelieving tone.

On a precious sigh, her smaller hands cupped his cheeks and drew him closer towards her face. She looked at him with her lower lip caught between her teeth, a contrite expression taking over. With their noses an inch or so apart she gently reached up to kiss his forehead.

Much to her chagrin his expression never altered in light of the action and it was clear she might have offended him.

"I'm sorry Kristos," she said softly. "I'm not much good at this I think."

At her earnest words and tumbling feelings of regret for her haste, his hands rose to rest on her hips in a comforting gesture before he then began to rub slow circles over the cotton towel. A familiar pattern that subconsciously took hold.

"I equally should have told you, but _trust_ in me for once Livia - I would never hurt you deliberately," he said and linked his arms behind the small of her back.

"I know," Livia replied quietly and tentatively reached out to kiss him.

This time Kristos responded and soon her passion demanded more than the touch of his warm lips upon her own. She pulled herself to him, ever tighter, and then wrapped an arm around his neck as she sighed in pleasure when his tongue slipped passed the seam of her lips.

Hot, but not forceful, his touch was methodical in the manner he enjoyed her body. He showed the greatest of care in arousing her, bit by bit, as he came to control their interaction. It wasn't long before her towel dropped to pool about her waist and the rise of her breasts rubbed enticingly against the pressed fabric from his suit.

For his part, Kristos had instantly damned the call to Council at their second kiss, had readily accepted that he would be late from the moment Livia had leaned in towards him with her heart in those eyes. They had glowed the rich colour of a pristine sea as she gazed at him with a lust inducing sentiment that only a stronger man could entirely ignore.

Replete in the decision, he could feel her silent call to retire to their bed once more and he would have granted her their shared wish, but the familiar ring of his phone pierced the moment. Its long, shrill tone demanding he remember his other duties.

"_Leave it_," Livia said breathlessly between kisses.

But despite her plea, he still brought the pads of his finger to her swollen lips, fresh from his kiss, and wished that he could give her what she so desired - time, security, _touch_. Their time together was still so new and the first revelations she had learned of were sure to cause feelings of doubt, but his phone rang in his pocket, successfully reminding him of the responsibility he couldn't ignore any longer.

Regret had never tasted so sweet as he grasped her chin and tilted her mouth towards his own for a quick kiss goodbye to their plans.

"I only wish that I could my sprite," he advised in an apologetic tone.

"Then just do it," she advised making a last attempt to convince him to stay. "I want to be with you."

Kristos kept his eyes on her as he failed to respond, the action giving her an answer that rang with more clarity than any spoken words. In that moment, it truly dawned on Livia how tied to this heavy mantle of responsibility he truly was, but as clear as her want, she could also read how the temptation of her presence inspired his own measure of self loathing.

In an act of begrudging acceptance she brought the towel to rest back over her breasts and gently pushed him away from her.

"Go and deal with them then, I need to get dressed anyway before returning to Hunter's Fall-"

"I don't want you to be angry," Kristos broke in and caught her resistive hand to his chest.

She cast her eyes at him then, the glaring ring of his phone ever persistent, but the gleam in his eye was more so. Though her time with him would undoubtedly be pulled and dictated in places by his responsibilities, it was clear who ultimately controlled him.

"I'm not angry, but I am thinking of when I might interrupt your serious schedule like I promised," she finally said on a resigned sigh.

"Thank you," he replied with a small kiss to her captured hand and then finally reached for the phone in his trouser pocket.

Livia had watched Kristos walk a few paces away from her before he hit the accept button and then held the phone to his ear. She expected him to keep his back to her, ignore her for an alternative distraction, but he suddenly pivoted to face her.

Uncaring of the persistent tones of his Second, demanding his whereabouts, Kristos took a minute to enjoy the sight of the golden beauty patiently waiting for whatever announcement he was going to make before continuing with her own plans.

Splendidly, her hair tumbled down one side of her neck in a lush wave whilst the rumpled bath sheet artistically draped her alluring curves - he was appreciative of his kitchen in a whole new light.

"_Tonight_," he stated for her alone. "Later tonight, we're going shopping for a ring and an architect."

She looked at him as if he might of taken a funny turn, the ring she understood, but the architect?

"Soundproofing for the neighbours," he succinctly reminded her with straight face and then promptly turned back to walk out of the room.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

"_to the revelation of secrets untold"_

The style of Kristos' farewell as he had exited the vehicle was still stirring her senses by the time she reached Hunter's Fall in the early evening. Behind a closed sweep of her lashes, it was as if she could still feel his hands gently press her body to his own as he had declared his feelings without words.

Indeed, he had left her company regrettably with the searing promise of seeing her again later, much later after his unavoidable dealings with the Council had been concluded for the day. Of course, Livia had felt his misplaced guilt at leaving her to her own devices and so she had released him from her clutches without a word of further protest.

But, without a doubt, Livia had started to expectantly count down the hours until their reunion.

Predictably, she felt the unaccustomed high after a night well spent in the arms of a man whom she trusted enough to marry and wasn't that a first in itself?

Livia Vandersteine was engaged to a man her family might actually approve of, she couldn't help but wonder what Marc's reaction was likely to be. If nothing else then he might at least cease with his own clumsy attempts at matchmaking for her - she had surely done well enough for herself, if accidentally.

As the car slowed she braced herself for stepping out into the cold embrace of the night by tightly securing the lapels of her long coat. Its lining whispered against the fabric of her jeans and it conspiratorially reminded her of the dress she hard worn the night before - she'd _have_ to find something similar.

In a mix of future plans, Livia sedately exited the vehicle as the driver held the door open for her with a slight tilt of his head as she gave her customary thanks. Before her, the house was uncommonly lit and the drive was strangely populated by a number of cars.

Without much of an inspection she walked daintily over the gravelled drive in black pumps to the front door, but before she could reach for the handle it was swiftly opened for her from the other side.

Livia smiled in greeting at Greta, but the other woman had no time for pleasantries.

"Livia my girl, come around the back," she started with the light of panic in her eyes.

"Why?"

"Just come with me," Greta pleaded. "_Please_."

It was uncharacteristic of the woman she had known for most of her life, the tense way she held herself said plenty for the unnatural tension that seemed to radiate around them.

"But why Greta, what's the matter?"

Livia allowed the confusion to spill across her face as the other woman grasped her arm forcefully and took a step outside. She would have gotten her way as Livia began to slowly follow, but the sound of a long forgotten voice broke through.

"_Livia_."

As if the world had dropped from beneath her feet, Livia turned wide eyes towards the man that filled the doorway to her home with his mere presence. He was as tall as Marc with a barrel of a chest that did much for his distinguished looks only faintly accented by silver.

Dressed all in black he said, "Have you no greeting for me girl?"

"_Father_," she whispered in a state of shock.

At once Livia darted a confused glance at Greta for confirmation, but the older woman merely dropped her gaze to the gravel and refused to look at her. It was clear from the loosened grip at her arm that she had wanted to avoid this meeting.

"How, I mean _where_ have you been?"

"Come inside," Dmitri told his youngest child as he ignored her query and instead, turned with the expectation that she would readily follow, but he had not gone far when he heard Greta's own words.

"You're encouraging disaster, he will not appreciate your involvement - do you hear me Dmitri?"

With a sharp turn, the man in question turned with something aglow in his disturbing eyes as he regarded Greta. It was as if a silent war of words was being waged between the two before he raised his head a little higher as if in a final sign of victory.

"My offspring is _my _offspring, no one can change that," he said quietly and then imperiously beckoned to his daughter, "Livia, _come_."

At his outstretched hand she felt her feet move of their own accord towards her father whilst a bubble of emotions threatened to choke her at the same time. As she came closer, she noted the odd details that seemed so distantly familiar from her childhood.

The smell of smoked wood clung to him softly as he stood tall, intimidating with his unblinking, pale stare which continued to measure her worth, but she pushed aside the last guilty thought when his warm fingertips enclosed her own.

"Father," she said again and felt earnest tears brim.

"Don't cry," Dmitri advised her shortly, gruffly. "Leave your coat here and then join us."

It was the closest she had come to sentiment from him as he handed her a square of linen for her escaping tears.

"But, where have you been all this time?"

Her one hand enclosed more tightly around his own as she pulled him toward her seeking an answer, seeking comfort from her father, but it was not to be.

"Enough of this Livia, you are a Lady of Hunter's Fall - give your coat to Greta," he repeated a more detailed instruction this time for her apparent benefit.

At a loss as shock suffused her mind, Livia drew a deep breath and did as she was bid. To an unhappy looking Greta she gave her coat, but failed to make eye contact with the other woman who attempted to now draw her in.

"Come," her father said and placed her hand on his forearm as he walked towards one of the larger rooms of the house.

Crushing the square of linen between her fingertips, it did not escape Livia's notice that he cast a sidelong glance over her clothing as they walked arm in arm together. She clearly read the dismissal of her choice.

"A dress would suit you better," was all he said.

The words reverberated around Livia's ears as she concentrated on demurely putting one foot in front of the other. She self consciously placed a hand at the side of her head where she knew her curls would be falling in disarray.

Earlier, she had thought nothing of donning a pair of faded jeans and the loose blouse which draped enticingly to bare a slender shoulder, but then, Kristos had also been there to state how much he enjoyed the simplicity of buttons over hidden zips, how he admired the soft curl of her hair as he had burned another path down her neck...

"_Livia_," Dmitri said yet again. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," she automatically responded to the hard authority in his tone.

Old habits seemed to have a habit of taking much longer to die than any of her best made resolutions.

His pale eyes regarded her for a moment longer before he continued, "I have gathered the families that we have always aligned with tonight, they are here to pay their respects and swear a new oath before our family."

Livia remained silent as they stopped on the threshold of one of the reception rooms.

"You will stay by my side, or your brother's, and make acceptances only when you are told to do so," Dmitri instructed her. "Is that clear?"

"I am not _twelve_-"

"And yet you have always acted the child," he snapped. "They have come here to pay their respects-"

"They seem to have come because you have called them, what has it got to do with me?"

She felt all the colours of intimidation flow as her father narrowed his too direct gaze on her. Since her youth it had always been the way that they would fail to see eye to eye. Even with his death and sudden rebirth, some things were slow to change.

"They have come because the Vandersteine name will finally be were it has always meant to be," Dmitri uttered without inflection before he determinedly escorted her into the room.

It was filled with faces as it had been the night that she had first publicly appeared at Hunter's Fall during Marc's soirée. Though she had not bothered to put a name to the faces that had stared so surreptitiously at her, Livia still vaguely recognised them from before.

One that clearly stood out, not only for his familiarity, but also for the deep worry etched into his face, was her brother.

As silent as a ghost Marc appeared at her elbow and when she looked up, a wordless communication travelled between brother and sister - he knew exactly how she felt and, like always, wanted her temper to be reigned in.

"Companions, I have called you here tonight to celebrate my beloved daughter's nuptials," Dmitri called loudly in his booming voice for them all to hear.

Livia watched mutely as he raised her hand with his own and around her, they all responded with the raising of their glasses, gazes focused on her father. No doubt he had their attention as they made noises of agreement.

"How do you know I'm getting married?"

Though she asked the question in quiet tones, Livia was more than aware that her father would hear her.

His glance told her to be silent as he took a sip of the champagne that she hadn't been offered.

Seeming to enclose her, the audience seemed to delight in small smiles full of secrets.

"We have waited a long time for this day, let us renew allegiances to each other and most importantly, _celebrate_," Dmitri told them all and ignored Livia's look of censure.

She had always known what a proud man her father was, after all, Livia had inherited her fair share of the sin so she allowed him to close the toast before her tongue set to work dismantling his game.

"How do you know I'm getting married?"

"What _matters_ is that your nuptials have been a long time in coming - I thought I might have to stay dead a while longer before the Vandersteine name ever took its _rightful _place."

She shook off her father's light hold whilst bristling aggressively at his tone.

"It has been years, let's not argue tonight," Marc said on the pretence of intervention as he gently steered his sister by the elbow to break their war of eyes. "Would you like a drink Livia?"

Unfortunately, his tact was doomed to fail because although she allowed Marc to take her by the elbow, Livia was quick to turn back to their father.

"Where is my mother?"

The question drew an icy stare from her father as her brother's hand tightened further in warning at her elbow, but she would not be persuaded from the line of enquiry despite the signs of danger. With interest in her sharp gaze she watched as her father's jaw tightened under a strain before he responded to her.

"You know your mother died some years ago in an accident-"

"And _you_ died with her, but here you are once more," Livia struggled for calm as she addressed him. "If you are alive then so is she - where _is_ she?"

Her voice had risen ever so slightly on her final words and a silence soon descended upon the room. In the strained atmosphere both father and daughter regarded one another with equally steely resolve. Each showed little sign of giving in, not until an unfamiliar voice broke in between the two to demand Dmitri's attention.

"Your Grace, I can see there are pressing issues you need to resolve - perhaps our gathering has been somewhat premature-"

"Any _pressing issues_ can wait to be resolved, my daughter is merely over come with her good fortune at securing such a match," Dmitri easily replied.

The fluid manner in which her father interacted grated on Livia's already raw nerves considering the topic at hand. In appearance he was as cold and unfeeling as ever, but she was no longer a teenager without her own resolve.

Determined, she turned from him to round on her brother.

"Where is my mother, _Marc?_"

Livia could feel the unsettling gaze of her father at her back, his growing ire at her difficult nature, but the uncomfortable light in her brother's eyes further fed her drive.

"Tell me," she said and grasped his forearm.

His eyes briefly looked over the top of her head before they returned and then he quietly said to her, "She didn't survive the accident Livia, that was no lie."

At the damning words she felt the yawning abyss open once more as it had that very first day she had received the news that her mother had died unexpectedly. It gripped her heart and pulled something terrible. Such a wrenching sensation that she felt as if the floor might give way had it not been for her brother's discreet arm at her waist.

"But _he_ did?"

"You know what we are now, what you are Livia," Dmitri cut in from behind her.

His tones betrayed nothing of the emotion he might feel at his daughter's bitter regard.

"Catherine was simply not of our kind, nature took its course."

At the calm, too logical, words she felt the pieces of her life's puzzle shift once more. She found herself staring at the buttons on her brother's shirt before she turned sharply and out of his supporting hold.

With her eyes on her father she said in a raised voice that shook with frustration, "Get _out_, all of you - the House of Vandersteine is about to have a family _meeting_."

"Livia," her father said in warning as her disrespectful tone got the better of him.

"_Out_, all of you!"

Despite the promise of retribution glowing so fiercely in his pale eyes, Dmitri said nothing as the group he had deliberately assembled filed out past him.

Left alone with only her father and brother, Livia felt something more than outrage seep into the surface of her conscious mind. Anger surely loomed in response to her father's actions, but beneath it, something dark tugged and pulled at her before dissipating like mist before the sun.

"My mother was not an _Undying_, but she was worth your grief-"

"Do not attempt to understand what I felt at your mother's death, _girl_," he bit softly.

"If she was your twin soul then-"

"Ah," he cut her off again. "He's told you about them, then you know there is only _one _in each of our lifetimes."

"Let's leave this Livia," Marc tried to intervene. "There is plenty of time to answer any questions you might have-"

"Like how he pretended to _die_ just to get me to come home?"

"There are things that happened before you were even born, of promises made - you were always going to marry for the family."

She looked at her brother with fresh pain in her gaze at his words.

"You _knew _about his kind - what you _are!_"

"There is no need for this-"

"Is that why you became such a _wonderful_ reflection of him? Because I wasn't good enough as a half-breed?"

Livia knew that Marc was well aware of what she referred, how he had suddenly reached an age of maturity and was no longer her ear to confide in, or a trusted playmate. She looked at him and clearly saw his regret, she even read it in his action of not retaliating against her hasty words.

He looked nothing like her, acted nothing like herself, and that's when the horrible truth struck.

"Your mother was his twin soul, wasn't she?"

With tears in her eyes she rounded on the man who wouldn't hesitate to give her the answers, who wouldn't think anything of the impact any truth might hold.

"Did you even _love_ my mother?"

"You're asking questions that will destroy us Livia, this is foolish-"

"Answer me!"

Livia missed the look of interest that graced her father's features as he took in her roughened tone and the enhanced glow of her sapphire gaze.

"I would've cherished every day your mother was with me should she have survived the accident, but she was my companion - the woman who owned my soul had already passed, taking it with her."

Cold, undeniable winter settled fresh in her heart at his words.

"Why did you even marry her then?"

He sighed with impatience for her naive questioning before he responded, "Time is long my girl, you cannot fathom time alone like mine - your mother was cherished. Is that not enough?"

She felt Marc touch her shoulder, but she never acknowledged him.

"Marriages are often based on far less than companionship, they are business arrangements-"

"What business did you get from marrying Catherine?"

"_You_," he simply said.

At the odd reply, Livia did nothing to hide the confusion that readily swamped her.

"A daughter to carry my name, the balm of a loving woman, a mother to my son," he finished and indicated to Marc with an imperious hand. "What more could a man want?"

"I honestly don't know anymore," she said quietly and felt her spirits deflate all at once.

There seemed nothing wrong with his explanation at face value, but the hurt and disappointment was undeniable to a woman who had begun to believe in fairy tales.

"Marriages are essentially transactions for the benefit of both parties," he sagely advised his daughter. "Be grateful that you find the consolidation of your match so appealing, there are some who are not always so fortunate."

"My marriage is _not_ a business arrangement," Livia hotly denied.

At the words she felt Marc briefly tighten his hold on her shoulder, but she thought nothing of it as she was faced with her suddenly amused father. A becoming smile softened his features, but it did nothing to settle her nerves.

"I agreed to marry Kristos because I love him," she stated firmly. "Even if he wasn't of your precious blue bloods, I'd do it in a heartbeat!"

"Livia that's enough," Marc interjected and attempted to more forcibly turn her towards him.

"_No,_" she said and shook off his hold.

With both of them in her sights she added, "I would never consent to an arranged match - I refused your efforts, didn't I Mark?"

Her brother said nothing, only the look of resignation sombrely stared back at her, and in the telling silence, Livia was more that aware of her father's strange regard. She held her breath for his damning words that were sure to follow.

"He has always been your intended Livia."

"No-"

"The day he granted the House of Vandersteine a reprieve from the actions I committed in his father's name, I promised him a wife and that woman is _you._"

"_No_," she emphatically denied once more. "It's not like that!"

Livia felt her world narrow, her worth as an individual crumble as she took in her father's expression. Not a mark of remorse, or awareness of her emotional plight, betrayed itself across his handsome features.

"That's not true, right Marc?"

Hopelessly, she turned to her brother in the desperate search for a reprieve that would ultimately never come.

All the blood drained from Livia's face when she took in his stricken expression. He knew quite well what the revelation would cost his sister and as clear as crystal, Marc betrayed the subsequent guilt he felt. It was written all over his familiar face because as much as he would have liked to deny the truth - he couldn't do it.

_He would have told me._

Livia repeated the mantra in her head as she felt the roil of emotions rise and sink within her chest. The air suddenly felt too thin and her lungs too small as she battled with the mounting feelings of betrayal.

First, that her father was indeed alive after all this time, the second, that she seemed to be a product of a _companionship_ for the purpose of fulfilling a family debt and, worse, it was one that Kristos had always been aware of.

He had _known _all along.

It struck a chord so deep that Livia felt his tentative enquiry as to her well being reach across the vast physical distance between them.

It should have shocked her, awed her, that he was able to stretch to such a feat for her, but her ragged emotions eroded her rational mind.

_My sprite, it's not as nefarious as you think._

"Don't call me that!"

Livia loudly threw the denial around the room which had her brother casting her a worried glance whilst her father merely silently watched. The knowledge of what she experienced known to him.

_I'm aware that we need to talk further, but I thought one mystery at a time was best, yes?_

"Save the bloody mystery for someone else," Livia threw back in earnest.

_I will soon finish with the Council, then we can-_

With anger and hurt fuelling her ability she cut the connection and imagined an impenetrable fort to guard her thoughts from him. He had told that there was little which could stop him, but Livia wasn't about to give him anymore than he could force from her.

"Enough of this Livia, you obviously haven't lost your flare for the dramatic," Dmitri said as she turned her stony profile his way.

Hurting from the pain of too many revelations and the perceived betrayal of the man she trusted, Livia felt something dark boil up from within, but she could barely focus on its meaning as her father's words continued to pour salt over her fresh wounds.

"This is no way for a woman of your position to behave - they'll naturally expect decorum from Kristos' wife."

A white hot anger stewed in Livia as his frustrated sigh rang out. She raised her gaze to meet that of her father's. Soo pale, his eyes were a colour that had always been arresting with a faint glow that she'd been unable to attribute to a cause until recently. It was there, she saw his demon laying just beneath the surface.

What Livia didn't know was that her father had concluded the same in his perusal of her.

"Do you think that you can play these games forever?"

"Only children play games-"

"That you can _both_," she snapped her gaze briefly to her brother before she continued, "lie to me and that I'll just pick up whatever _lines _you want me to say?"

"Livia," Marc called her name in something close to a plea as he sensed the scale of her mounting anger.

"Did you play the same games with my mother, did you tell her that you only wanted a daughter to sell?"

Livia sensed the gathering energy before the moment of its release was upon them. As quick as Kristos had phased, her father instantly came to stand right in front of her, but it was the look in his eyes that differed so greatly.

"You will _never_ speak so disrespectfully of your mother again," he said in low tones that sent a chill down her spine.

They were so close that she could see the flecks of silver in his eyes, the subtle shift in his facial features as a strong emotion for her mother had been pulled to the surface, much like his demon.

Whilst they may never see a peaceable eye to eye, that emotion was enough to communicate the buried affection he had once had for Catherine. One that he still harboured for her beneath his frosty exterior. It soothed something of her righteous anger, but it would fail to keep the House of Vandersteine united.

Some things were simply better off divided.

Livia looked up into her father's eyes and finally said with the colour of an unnatural emotion, "You can keep Hunter's Fall, I never liked the _chill _of this mausoleum anyway."

With the statement issued, she turned away from her father and didn't even spare her brother a glance in order to gauge his own reaction. Instead, as the doorway to freedom loomed before her, she could only faintly hear Marc apparently restrain her father from going after her.

"_Enough has been said, he's not going to appreciate this as is."_

The line stayed with her as she stormed into the study in a blind search for her car keys. It was the first time she had heard Marc defy their father, but it was a little too late for her taste.

Tired of them all and their wicked little games, tired of the raw ache she felt in her chest and of the constant need to bolster her defences in order to keep Kristos out of her mind, Livia grabbed her keys to freedom and determinedly turned to venture in the direction of the front door.

"Livia, he means well. Please listen to me, your mother always said he was-"

"_Greta_," Livia said in a voice that cracked with emotion.

The older woman rung her hands together with a look of appeal on her face, it only betrayed the slightest hint of resignation. To Livia's eyes, it became clear that Greta had known well enough what would happen when gunpowder and a flame where put together - she could scarcely be accused of not trying to keep the peace.

"He doesn't mean it, he loves you in his own way just as he did your mother."

"I _can't_ stay here," she said on a ragged inhale.

"I know," the other woman sadly agreed. "But, it'll be alright Livia, it always is."

Greta regrettably stepped aside, but kissed Livia on the cheek just as she passed through the door and brought a hand to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. At the gentle action of goodbye, her once young charge stopped completely and looked at her with all the hurt in the world shining in her deep blue eyes.

Just as a stray tear slipped over her lashes, Livia broke away with a small smile of gratitude and then headed directly to her car.

On a heavy sigh that made Greta more than feel her age, she watched the tail lamps disappear into the night.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

"_to an innate failure to trust wisely"_

Livia had almost escaped the house visibly unscathed as she did her best to resist the call of self pity, but in the last moments before her flight, Greta had anxiously appeared at the door with her kind words that lacked any form of judgement.

It had very nearly been the end of her self control.

Of course, she had hoped rather desperately that her emotions would fail to entirely get the better of her, but contrary to her wishes, the ever present cauldron of confusion roiled intolerably as she passed through the gates of the grounds. Its volatile contents threatening to spill over into reason.

She inhaled deeply for the sole purpose of quieting the huge wrenching sob that she could feel threatening to tear her chest apart.

_Stupid._

She had felt like the eternal fool in that room where _everyone_ but her, had known of the secret which her family had deliberately kept hidden for so many years. It hurt even more wit the knowledge that Kristos had not deigned her worthy enough to share the clandestine promise.

That he might even view her in the same way that her father had apparently regarded her mother. Lovely, but not quite the meaning of his life.

_You know that's not true._

There it was.

Despite her best efforts, his voice poured into her mind with a rich cadence that she couldn't deny. Even as a tear of his deliberate making rolled down her cheek, she wanted to hear more - was inexplicably _hungry_ to see him in the flesh.

_Stay at the house Livia, I need to see you, you want to see me - why leave like this?_

She could feel her resolve weakening at his tone, the convincing words he used, but she was equally not ready to admit any measure of defeat. The hurt was too fresh, the memory of her father's amusement too raw for the time being.

Despite the truth ringing clear in his sentiment, his reason for failing her trust had not settled as yet. With her flare of temper, time was undoubtedly needed to sort through the chaos of her thoughts and to see him too soon would take that choice away - something she had always prized.

He was right, she felt it, but Livia was not about to give in to reason just yet.

In no uncertain terms she broadcast her immediate unwillingness to seek him out and, at first, she could feel his rising rebuke of her lie, but ultimately, Kristos relented as she sent him the impression of her split concentration.

_Your argument, or the road - which is it Kristos?_

Refusing to feel any measure of guilt at the use of such a ploy, she felt him immediately withdraw at the spoken threat. Like a door to winter being opened wide, the warmth of her inner hearth sharply felt the loss as she was once more alone.

On a rugged inhale Livia breathed deeply and increased the pressure on the pedal as she refused to feel the affliction of regret. It had no place in her cobbled together plans for self preservation, for whilst she hadn't the slightest idea of what she would do when she actually reached the capital, she knew it was imperative to get there.

Boarding a plane for London or New York had no appeal, nor did the prospect of placing a call to Michael. Nothing she could think of lessened the physical ache in her chest, the temptation to call _him _back, to forgive their misunderstanding and to go on as before, but resist she would.

After all, Kristos had failed to tell her the one truth that mattered.

_Bang. Bang._

"What the _hell _was that?"

Two sharp popping sounds had echoed in close proximity around her as the car immediately failed to respond to her counter handling. At once, the precarious turn of events jolted her entire being whilst confusion reigned supreme in her mind.

The road had been _clear_, she was sure of it, but whatever had taken her tyres to pieces had done so with alarming efficiency as the car careened independently.

With the edge of the high road fast approaching and being unable to steer clear of the barrier, Livia slammed on the brakes and hopelessly turned the wheel sharply in the opposite direction of the skid. Unfortunately, her actions did precious little to avoid her fate.

She shut her eyes tightly in the last few seconds and simply gave a breathy, "_Oh damn."_

It was heard by no one but herself as the compact, but heavy vehicle's rear swung out to one side and hit the road barrier with a definitive _crack_. The meagre railings of cheap steel crumpled under the contentious force and sheer weight of the carriage to only slow her descent marginally, but it wasn't enough to keep her on the road.

Instead, the heavy vehicle continued moving to dip over the sharp edge of the road. As it slipped further towards doom, its weight became its final undoing as it caused gravity to pull down strongly, so much so that it started to tilt dangerously.

At the first sickening sense of weightlessness, Livia let go of the steering wheel completely and then placed her hands around her head in a feeble gesture of protection as the seat belt cut directly into her body as she was pitched forward into the exploding airbag.

The turn upside down happened fastest, as if the roll sped up just to confuse her senses. It jerked her around like a rag doll as she struggled to keep control of her limbs whilst gravity viciously pulled. It was enough of a struggle that she entirely failed to protect her arm from the centre console as it collided with a hard _thud_ on the completion of a full roll.

It seemed that whilst attempting to protect her head and neck may have been the wisest recourse, it did precious little to comfort her as the pain which radiated up her injured arm took a hefty toll.

On the second and final instance of the vehicle rotating, Livia heard the ominous crack and subsequent shattering of the windscreen as the solid impact of landing against something immovable ricocheted through the vehicle.

Across her exposed skin, the stray shards of glass were lethally sharp as they rained down across her, but instead of screaming her fear - Livia instinctively called out with her heart.

_Kristos._

His name was the first to the tip of her tongue as she felt the cold air wash in from the broken windscreen and the pain of her body freshly intensify when the airbag became depleted, because even in the face of her overwhelming confusion at how the accident might have occurred, _he_ was still crucial.

Livia might have been angry with him, but there was no denying her attachment and the need in that moment to make vital contact. _Especially_ as Livia felt her internal organs ceaselessly tumble about in a most, unpleasant, manner.

_Kristos, please_.

With one wide eye opening at a time, Livia then called aloud for him as she sat hurt and afraid, but it was now a terror that he would fail to hear her call that gripped her heart. There was no telling how effective her neat _tricks_ had become with practice.

Even not knowing what might have been waiting beyond the car for her, Livia called until her lungs became horse with the effort and her abused chest could take no more. Much to her disappointment, it did no good to call and call as her tear filled eyes searched the darkness for the man she had earlier shut away.

Beyond the lone beam of a single surviving headlight and the hum of the engine, there was precious little to see in the thick wood she had unexpectedly barrelled into.

However, the car was certainly a sight though, even from where she sat at the wheel. It had taken one too many knocks as it rolled down the escarpment to eventually rest against a large tree, one that had managed to cut off her escape through her own door, not that she would secure her exit anyway.

Her lip was bloodied, there were aches on top of aches and her arm experienced shooting pains every time she moved her fingertips. In a slow perusal she took account of her other limbs to register the stiffness, but was relieved to note that nothing else gave her half as much trouble.

It seemed like the cold dark began to creep towards her the longer she gazed out at nothing, but only moments had passed in reality before a flicker caught her eye. The growing light gave her hope that help was at hand, or so she thought, as a flashlight searched the wooded area with purpose.

Livia's first, slightly dazed, thought was that Kristos had come for her, but sense soon determined it wasn't - he had said he didn't need a light.

The renewed thought that she couldn't reach him burned a hole in the vicinity close to her heart. She hadn't heard from him despite her calls and was left to determine that he might not have heard her at all, or perhaps he chose not to.

Livia had no inkling as to how friendly the individual with a flashlight might be, but she wanted Kristos more. Enough to make another attempt at calling to him.

"Kristos, _dammit!_"

Livia had intended it to be another loud call, but her lungs failed her on this occasion as a sharp pain banded across them. It was so strong that she clutched her agonised arm to her chest and rested with her eyes closed on the steering wheel, panting in small gasps for air.

It seemed that her calls would remain unanswered for a while longer.

Despair heartily threatened before she heard a painfully familiar voice drift towards her.

"_Well,_ just look at what I found."

At the sound she turned her head against the wheel and found herself looking at a jubilant James Williamson as he hunched over to peer in through the shattered side window. With hands resting against the roof of the poorly used vehicle, there was a gleam in his eye that did not bode well for her disastrous evening.

""Go away James," she bristled despite the pain. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

Livia attempted to rouse herself more fully as the dread of vulnerability sunk in around her. It was a niggling suspicion that seemed to plant itself in the back of her mind as she attempted to sort out _why_ he was here of all places.

"Now that's not a very nice thing to say to your future husband-"

"I'm not marrying you, what is it with men and the _obsession _these days?"

Livia shifted too sharply as the words left her mouth, the action causing a twist to her chest which resulted in an inadvertent yelp of pain to quickly follow, but even through the discomfort, her eyes still watched James warily as he killed the light of the torch and reached in to turn on the dimmer cab light instead.

"What are you doing here?"

"Saving you from the error of your ways," he replied all too easily and then added, "you shouldn't drive when you're angry, you know?"

James looked characteristically sly as he issued the latter sentiment and, despite the fierce ache at her temple, Livia knew that _he_ had been the cause of her deliberate accident. She had been far too quick to rule out his irresponsible behaviour the night before, that his childish want would soon disappear.

Livia had been _disastrously _wrong in the assumption.

By the dominant stance he took, there was no telling what his next move would be.

"I told you no-"

"I beg to differ my darling," James said in a fashion that was all to sure of himself. "After all, I may have engineered this chance meeting, but I'll still be a gent and help you out of it - you _need_ me."

Livia shifted her legs subtly and was grateful to note that they seemed in working order just as they had been at her first inspection, but all the while she made the small move, a careful eye was maintained on James as he leered through the broken window at her. Originally she had been disappointed that her door was blocked by a large pine, but now she felt relief as she didn't doubt he would have been leaning through _her_ window if it was possible.

"Nothing to say?"

"Go away-"

"But darling," he said and then leaned away to open her passenger door. "I have so much to say to you."

She watched in growing panic as James donned a pair of black leather gloves to avoid injury as he grasped the handle of the door tightly and then tried to open it. At first, it refused to budge to her great relief, but the emotion was short lived as the abused door gradually gave way at his persistent pull.

Too soon, he was able to wrench it completely open.

It swung open in a wide arc to his obvious satisfaction and she gritted her teeth as he then made a show of dusting the shards of glass off the passenger seat before he turned an expectant eye on her.

"You know, I've only proposed the once in my life and I had thought that would suffice, truly I did, but you've needed constant _reminders_."

"I thought you got my message," Livia said.

"Ah, the one where you seemed to think that you could back out of our agreement?"

"I'm not marrying you-"

"But you're going to _marry_ someone else?"

His eyes turned mean and quicker than she thought possible, James reached in to snatch the wrist of her damaged arm. Uncaring of her prone position he wrapped his leather bound hands around her vulnerable wrist and gave a sharp yank in his direction.

At the merest contact she screamed in agony, but he didn't stop.

"Do you think I don't know that you've been seeing _him_," James snarled with anger. "To think you thought yourself above _my_ little habits, but you're sleeping with the rumoured boss of an area from London to Istanbul?"

With deliberate intent he squeezed particularly hard on her wrist and smiled with malicious intent at the shudder of pain that raced through her. It seemed to please him enormously.

"What a hypocrite you've proven to be," James started, but then added in a low tone, "still, I can't really blame him for _sampling_ what's mine - did he manage to melt your ice, break you in for me?"

Roughly, he increased Livia's cries as he forcibly hauled her over the centre console. In an ungainly sight, she was forced to use her legs to scramble across the small space towards him, supporting her weight rather than let her body hang by his vicious hold at her wrist.

When he saw fresh tears of fear track down her pale cheeks as her breath escaped in little gasps of agony over bloodied lips, he sighed with something like satisfaction before he started to speak once more.

"Oh Liz," James chimed. "You know I always get what I want and I only want a little bit of your wealth, h'm?"

The pain stole her breath as she collapsed onto the passenger seat and did her best to bring her feet entirely with her. As the awkward angle lessened with her final movements, Livia felt a shift in mindset.

Something _stirred_.

Feverish, worryingly dark and generously threaded with malevolence, something had started to eat at her rational being as if forced from its slumber too early. Out of the coiled sensation that nestled deep in her subconscious she felt something corporeal rise, something that she had only ever caught a fleeting glimpse of once, or twice, before.

Unlike when Kristos had protected her at the opera, unlike anything that she might of been able to explain, it rose out of her spiralling emotions. Cloying and potent, it possessed the forefront of her mind like a flood of energy with all of its purposeful intent focused on James.

Unable to control the spread, Livia liberally admitted that she welcomed the alternate surge of sensation in preference to the living hell of her current predicament. It rose up as something stronger within her as she instantly used her other hand to grip an unsuspecting James by the collar of his shirt.

Incredibly strong for a diminutive woman, her hold latched on with a demonic intent that would not let go.

The sharp jerk down surprised James as it sent him straight to his knees beside the open door of the car and, also, beside a Livia that he failed to recognise.

Gone was the soft vulnerability that had betrayed her fear of him, her lips no longer trembled on the cusp of a plea and the deep blue of her eyes had darkened unnaturally. They seemed to glow in the dim light of the cab, taking up her entire face with a shocking intensity that he had never seen before.

Worse, when he attempted to knock her fisted hand from his shirt - he was unable to do so.

Her grip held unusually strong for an injured woman.

"Now Liz, let me go," James started, but he was unable to finish as she jerked him closer.

Livia enjoyed the paling of his lily-white skin as her former beau looked upon her with a bone deep shock at her unsettling change in demeanour. It was all to do with an inexplicable surge of power that she could feel pulsing through her body and, although there was an equal element of fear for the unknown element within herself, she was grateful for the ability to challenge James rather than be horrified by the result.

But with the ability came consequence, the change had begun to take over her attention so entirely that she failed to hear Kristos' long awaited call to her. Instead, her inner purpose was all for the male in front of her, held there partly at her insistence, but also partly by a demonic desire for retribution.

Of course, with the aid of Livia's inner guide she read the duplicity in James' eyes before he even made the final move to escape her hold. With cold intent, she had already decided to allow it, safe in the knowledge that it would only feed her coming resolve and block the reality of her injuries for a little while longer.

Out the corner of her eye, Livia watched James lash out with his hand against her injured arm. It was a wholly deliberate move on his part because he wanted her to feel pain, was eager for her to be at his feet once more. However, unbeknown to either of them, it would be James' last foolish act of violence - he would be stopped, no matter how unlikely the outcome.

At first contact the pain of his strike travelled up the length of her injured limb and up her spine. The sensation was gruelling as the hot stabbing torment caused her to cry out in protest as he struck another blow to her useless arm.

But, painful though it was, James' actions also roused the black swirl of her new emotions to new heights. They became impossibly sharpened - obliterating all of her other human-like sensibilities.

Pushed to the forefront, Livia's demon was roused earlier than expected to protect its host from further damage. From the dark well of the unknown that every Undying came to eventually experience, it joined forcefully with her being to steer the will of her faculties.

With a renewed grip at James' collar, Livia strongly pulled him towards her and then sank very human teeth into the straining tendons of his neck. As her blunted canines and strong incisors tore into the vulnerable skin below his jaw, the demon within allowed no thought but the end game to toll in her mind.

Entirely dominated for the time being, Livia's mind toppled the natural repulsion of the gory act as the demon's strength poured unfiltered into her bite hold. With the first tang of coppery warmth, the demon within sang its praise in an odd, antiquated tongue that filled her mind as her vision swam before her eyes.

Not once did James' earnest fight trickle through to her subconscious, Livia gave no reaction, not even when he flailed and struck her injured arm with repeated, but weakening blows.

Absorbed in its goals, the older spirit never allowed her to relinquish her prey until she gave in completely to their unity and, most importantly, when it too was finally satisfied that the danger to its host had ultimately passed.

Within minutes, the two had reached their agreement, but poor misguided James would remain a victim of unfortunate circumstance. Whilst he may have contributed to his own end, it was clear that he had never stood a chance against things far older and ritualised than himself.

Without care or consideration, Lord St. James Williamson, of an impoverished line of blue bloods, was promptly released to collapse without dignity on his back upon the hard ground. Ignored, left to bleed to death on the cold floor of the lonely wood by his unexpected executioner.

Not once did she spare his last, choked, moments a second glance.

Covered in blood with the remnants of warm skin between her teeth, Livia had given in to pain as she succumbed to its blessed oblivion against the headrest of the ruined seat. Lost to conscious thought, there was only the resounding ring of a demon's litany in her ear.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

"_to the undeniable craving of a simple heartbeat"_

Even with her laying peacefully amidst the white cotton sheets of his bed, Kristos would never forget the first sight that had greeted him a week ago.

_Blood._

So much blood had covered Livia's prone, lifeless body that he hadn't known what had been hers, and what had been another's at first glance. With his heart in his mouth he had thought the worst, been almost crippled with sorrow, but on a forced inspection it had been something else entirely - much to his relief and slight shock.

Kristos had only needed to briefly glance at James' prostrate body in order to understand what had transpired.

Miraculously, Livia's demon had risen well before her stasis had arrived, risen and granted her the strength to protect herself, but she'd also likely have learned that a demon's mind was entirely its own.

He highly doubted that she had intended to _physically_ rip out his throat.

A gruesome task indeed as Livia's physical traits as an Undying had not yet transpired to be of use. As their nature dictated, they would only ever come about after the sickness of stasis had passed. Something that had shortly followed her experience with James. In fact, it had kept a tentative Kristos at her bedside for the last week.

_Wake for me Livia_.

His silent entreaty travelled along the lonely corridors of their connection as she continued to lie as still as death beside him.

He had long since abandoned the formality of a shirt, but had opted for the only comfort of rare jeans as he lay down beside her. Turned towards her with his head propped up by a bent elbow and hand.

All matters had been put to one side since he had discovered her in the wooded ravine, even the press of Council had not taken him from her side.

After all, there was only one matter that he felt a burning need to deal with.

Angelic in appearance, she lay on her back with the blond fall of her hair swept away from her face, the soft contours of her lips restored after the maiming cut had been healed, but her arm remained lightly bandaged. No cast had been required under his care, but the injury was still slower to heal from the nature of the break she had suffered.

_Livia, my punishment had been served - wake for me._

But having felt the familiar press of silence gather around him at the words, Kristos resigned himself to another night of waiting. He had waited enough, but would continue to do so until a response was forth coming from his sprite - he had already misplaced his responsibility to her once before.

Reconciled, the fingers of his free hand tangled with those of her uninjured arm - smaller, paler, more fragile.

"It will take an eternity for your punishment to be served."

Scratched like an old record, the feminine tones brought a smile to his face as he looked away from their joined hands to her waking features.

"You're awake," he stated the obvious with pleasure and then leaned down to deposit a kiss upon her restored lips, but she stilled him with a stiff turn of her shoulder, a raised hand on his chest.

"I _don't_ think so," Livia said and swallowed in the hopes of smoothing her unpracticed vocal chords.

"My troublesome sprite, are you going to strain my heart further, or just allow-"

"Your heart," she snapped and her glowing eyes narrowed alarmingly, "_your_ heart?"

It was likely the most poorly timed sentiment to express upon her waking.

"Livia-"

"You knew my father was _alive_, you had some stupid deal to have him _give_ you his daughter-"

"Now my love," he tried to tame the inferno he could see readily brewing.

"Don't _my love _me, Kristos," Livia denied the poignant endearment.

She shoved at him and was surprised to note the additional strength she possessed, enough to send him onto his back beside her.

On shaky movements that only gradually stabilised, Livia rose from where she lay and then pivoted on the bed to put her feet on the carpet. As the sheet fell away, it embarrassingly struck her that she was quite naked beneath the cotton before she quickly remedied the problem by wrapping it around herself.

"_Move_," she savagely bit at him in bad temper when his weight snagged the final yard.

He obliged without further complaint and let her drag the sheet from under him.

"You _bloody_ well knew and you didn't breath a word to me!"

With a hand to her head, Livia wobbled precariously on two feet, seemingly oblivious to the enticing sight she presented to him - sheet, or no sheet.

"I thought you might be angry with that small oversight," he admitted.

"_Small?"_

"It didn't matter-"

"_Matter_," she lashed out and pointed a finger at him. "Of course it mattered, you can't just pick out a bride like a pair of shoes!"

Livia breathed deeply after the words had scorched her insides. It hurt to think that their emotional entanglement had been one sided, that she had cared for her mysterious shadow-man whilst he had simply been condoning a deal between families.

She might of bet that it had only enriched the whole sordid deal that she was so easy to manipulate.

"_Livia_," he said in a warning tone.

At that, her eyes flashed with annoyance at him for listening in to her private thoughts, but as he started to slowly inch towards the edge of the bed on all fours with amber eyes aglow, she felt her thoughts turn away from anger to betray her. It was the release and contraction of muscle across his bare chest that snagged her irksome lust.

She silently berated herself, but still watched all the same.

Aware of her heightened perusal, Kristos finally sat on the edge of the bed before her and simply looked at her from under the slight fall of his askew hair. The sight of which made her itch to reach across and smooth it back into place for him.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Next to mine in the wardrobe," he answered her easily, biding his time. "Even those from Hunter's Fall are here."

Of course, Livia gave one last, lingering, look at his bare chest before she started to smartly turn towards the wardrobe. It had been her intention to ferret out something to wear before continuing her flight away from her family and most importantly, _him_.

Unfortunately, Kristos was lightening quick as he reached out in the last moments to capture a fistful of her cotton sheet. She was forced to stop, least she lose her one protection, and then turned a heated glare upon him in the hopes it detracted from her panic.

She'd be lost if he touched her and the idea had her exert her own feverish pull on the damnable cloth.

"Walk away from me by all means, but I'm not letting go," he told her with a devilish glint in his eye. "I've been a perfect gentleman all week nursing you out of stasis-"

"_All week?_"

The surprise at such a statement held her immobile for a scant moment, he had not left her for Council and he had not consigned her to her father. Undeniably, the knowledge helped to soothe the ragged edges of her temper.

"Yes, my little sprite," he returned and gently tugged her towards him. "Or _demon_, shall I call you that now?"

His masculine tones warmed her as they always did, but the persistent thought of his concern over her health sent a thrill of satisfaction though her core.

"Of course I _worried_, if you hadn't of so, dramatically, dismantled James' throat - _I _would've."

Kristos exhaled on the crest of a memory best forgotten as he brought her closer still and then placed his face against her cloth-covered abdomen. Her gentle warmth and form was blessedly real beneath his hands.

_Your father has dastardly timing._

"Do you think so?"

_And the subtlety of a bull in a china shop._

Livia felt a little bit more of her ire dissipate at the accurate remark, more so when he so carefully shaped her hips with his hands, as if assuring himself of her solid reality. It was true, her father had always had a habit of breaking through a barrier rather than negotiating his way around it.

With her resistance crumbling, Livia gave in to temptation and deeply sank her fingers into the rich depths of his hair, so much darker than her own, it was soft and silky to the touch. She felt the familiar ring of pleasure in his company, the unusual corridor between them warm and alive.

It felt… _Satisfying_.

_I didn't believe he would be so quick to act, I thought that I'd have more time-_

"I'm disowning _him_ for a change, he's nothing but trouble," Livia complained aloud with a spark of anger igniting her hasty words.

"Dmitri Vandersteine has always pushed for more, yet I didn't quite anticipate he would celebrate so soon, but there are things a father can't over look," Kristos spoke with more than a touch of self depreciation.

"Like what?"

_Like my mark which looks so natural upon you._

"Just because I sleep with a man doesn't mean-"

"You bound yourself willingly to me, I wouldn't care if your father approved, or _not_ Livia," he cut directly to the matter without a shred of remorse.

Unusually, there wasn't a sliver of her being that wished to further argue with Kristos on the matter, whilst he may of failed to tell her everything during their brief moments together - it was true she had willingly given herself to him regardless of her father's ploy.

"I had also hoped that you wouldn't have been so susceptible to him," Kristos added at her silence. "Ready to have my name blackened-"

Immediately, Livia's hands tightened in his hair and she used her grasp to force his head further back from where he already looked up at her.

"Let's be clear, you are a complete _sod _for not telling me about him and your little agreement-"

"My troublesome sprite, I couldn't have cared less about that agreement from the moment it was brought back to life - the night I first saw you, I had fully intended to dismiss you," he said honestly. "With a lecture no less."

Livia lost some of her glare, the grip lessened, but she was still suspicious as she asked, "Why didn't you?"

"There was something about wet lace that caught my eye," Kristos unashamedly answered with a leer at her chest.

"You're _insufferable_," she said and promptly released him.

But, before she was able to whirl away in a righteous cloud of white cotton, Kristos tightened his grip around her hips and then neatly deposited her on the bed next to him in one swift action.

Indelicately, Livia landed with a soft sound of surprise, but quickly recovered in an attempt to rise once more.

"I don't think you understand my love," he said and loomed over her to settle a hand between her breasts in order to stop her from rising. "What we have is beyond your father."

"I _don't_ trust you-"

"Yes, you do, just as I trusted you implicitly from the beginning," Kristos cut directly.

He sank long fingers into her hair and kissed her chin when she turned her head away from him, daring to deny him. But in actuality, the small sign of her rebellion only caused a masculine rumble to emanate from his chest as he dropped kiss after kiss along the long line of her vulnerable neck.

So close, the feel of their hearts beating in time warmed long forgotten places within him. Places that she alone inhabited.

"How do I know you're not hiding any _other_ secrets from me?"

Imperatively, Livia forced out the query as the strange sensation of dark need began to rise up as she let herself enjoy the touch of his lips against the slope of her shoulders and over the rise of her breasts.

"Because you are never leaving my side _again_," he breathed against her ear.

"That's a ridiculously impractical answer."

"Then thank the heavens that I have the money and the authority to do exactly as I please, yes?"

His smile, replete with confidence, rang true in his tempting tones as the wrap of cotton was cleverly loosened from her willing body.

"Kristos?"

She sank her hands once more into his hair and then drew his face towards her own in order to stare deeply into his amber eyes. As they had been the first time, a wealth of information was laid bare for her awakened eyes to understand, but more intriguing, she felt her own secrets finally rise up to be shared with him.

"You're an idiot Kristos, but apparently I'm in love with a rich one so I'm still expecting that ring - it had better be _huge_ to make up for this."

Her shadow-man said nothing, but merely gave a sly smile before devouring her with his kiss as an unspoken promise for the future.

###


	18. About

About

Well met reader if you have made it honestly to the end of my tale – finally toe to toe.

If you have not so addled your paltry mind with fables of candied heart rot then do consider a further tale more closely aligned with my, _original _purpose. Hardened demons and callous witches burn more brightly in a flawed tale of my own choosing – should you dare to risk a corruption of your upstanding ideals then read on, read on...

- Ardina

**The Mad Overlord's Queen**

Prologue

_The sound of the large doors slamming shut at the top of the stairwell had her glance back for a brief moment. The look, over a slim shoulder, betrayed her inner turbulence even as she turned resolutely from the echoing noise, but not before the dim candlelight of the passage caught the faint sheen of moisture in her eyes._

_It was clear her attention was all for the destination, but her heart was slow to follow._

_The light tap of her footfall was at odds with the loud rapping of her heart as she followed the spiralling staircase further down into the damp bowels of the palace. The sharp snap of heel meeting stone was the rhythm that sounded out as she increased her pace to try and escape the coward that lurked within._

_Each rushed, careless, step across the moss covered slabs of stone seemed a ripe opportunity for a reckless death to take the young mortal from her destiny._

_What a shame that would have been._

_Down and down she raced with fingertips tentatively grazing the carved symbols etched in the curving walls. Unconsciously, she sought comfort in forgotten runes as if her blood already knew what her mind could not accept, but the dreams had not told her how to unlock the warmth just yet. There was nothing but the cold, slippery moss that welcomed her touch._

_She continued to fly down the steps until she came to a stop before a narrow door at the very base. Through the escaping fall of hair from her, usual, tight braid she traced the markings with her eyes._

_The guttering of a candle filled the sudden silence and she idly rubbed the collected mildew between forefinger and thumb. With a focus that had earned her a moniker, she stared hard at the old, ornate door with its ancient arcane markings of passage. The air rippled faintly with foreboding power in the muted light and for the first time she felt fear of the unknown._

_The door opened unaided heralding the beginning of her end._

_Wiping the gritty green mildew across the material of her leggings, she took a confident stride forward into the cavernous room as befitting an Elite, but nervously tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear in a subconscious gesture. It would do her no good to show fear in front of them. Never had she given them the satisfaction and she would continue to refuse them their satisfaction._

_They might win a battle, but they would lose the war eventually._

_Upon entering she circled around a large and deep fire pit that burned white hot with flames leaping as high as a man. Its heat increased her body temperature and caused the loose lawn of the linen top she wore to cling uncomfortably to her body._

_In some ways, the heat made her glad she had left her beloved cloak behind along with everything else of value, though the comforting hue of her station and depth of anonymity were missed. She had become used to hiding herself away._

_The unnatural light from the fire threw dark shadows around the room which moved with a life of their own. Its high ceiling was a remarkable playground for the spectres to reach and dance. Their ghastly length spoke volumes for the forbidden power that lived within the deep well._

_It was clearer than before that this would be her reckoning, this would be the change she needed. There could be another life beyond the portal - she could feel it, her instinct told her so._

_If she survived their murderous intent of course._

_From behind the original door emerged a fair beauty who was clad in silken robes. She was familiar to the mortal, as would the Others be. With a voice that rang like soft rain she spoke, "So you have decided to draw enough courage to come at last half-breed?"_

_The mortal's eyes tracked the fair, seemingly angelical, creature as she moved closer, but remained silent. It was an old insult. One that had rung with particular vigour as the mortal had drawn ever closer to womanhood and then vigour had transformed to practised malice._

_Altered flames danced in the mortal's dark eyes as she steadily gazed at the creature and still said nothing in response._

_The beguiling angel faltered briefly under her watchful gaze and glanced towards the open door for support, but all the same said in hurried tones, "It's right that you leave child, though I have no care for you, I nor my sisters would wish to watch you suffer the fate of an unwanted… Attachment." As the fair child of the night watched her words pierce their mark she capitalised, "You were not meant for the wilds of Markarth, it is time that you returned home to start a new life."_

_There was little reaction from the mortal, it was yet another old taunt that had been delivered away from the ears that mattered. Always, out of the hearing of her questionable guardian and more diligent watchers._

_The swish of light skirts and the tentative clash of jewelled bangles filled the quiet as two more females appeared at the door. The first to speak was one with hair as deep and dark as her lips that chimed breathlessly, "We came to wish you well on your journey beyond the portal and to pay our respects."_

_At the falsehood the young mortal raised an elegant eyebrow._

_The other, a raven haired beauty with less humility in victory, delivered wounds, "After all, it's time you saw that you are no twin soul, you could never be as we are. There is nothing for you here, even if he did wish to further burden himself with your… Affliction."_

_There was no denying that the raven found her mark, she always had done._

_No cross words escaped the mortal's lips and she restrained the call to inflict damage. For the mortal, there would be no point in denying them life. It would not change the facts of the matter. These were his chosen ones, not her. Instead, she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly._

_Undeterred, bolstered by the presence of others, the angel said, "A soul destined to be entwined is cherished and recognised, not," there was a deliberate pause before she continued, "humoured like an indulged child and left to train from birth as our men do."_

_A smile graced the insulted female's lips and she sighed heavily, easily tired of their games. There was really no need for their final show as she would leave Markarth regardless, but she regally waved them on never the less - it only served to increase their bite._

"_What partner would you be without enticing feminine grace?" Came words from deep dark lips._

"_What mother would you make without a soft heart?" Sentimentally added the raven one._

"_What queen would you make as an outcast… Half-breed?" Whispered the angel._

_Staring directly at the flames the mortal allowed their words to sink in before she bit, "You have always been so generous with your advice that I do not need further reminders."_

_The Others shared brief, nervous, but never contrite glances between themselves._

_It was not long before she continued, "You would be wise to note your own words, that I am as cold as the steel I have learned to wield at his knee!"_

_The unpredicted, angry shout rang out and echoed through the chamber. With menace lighting her features she turned on them. "Push me and I will enjoy flaying the skin from your flesh," she spat at them. "Each of you!"_

_The three took a collective step back. Fear flashed across their lovely faces because it was a rare sight when the little ward of Markarth retaliated. Despite the livelihood of an Elite, they had never witnessed much but the mortal's stony silence in their presence._

_They had taken it for granted that the mortal knew she was unworthy. But, the display of anger was not enough to dissuade them and they bristled at the mortal's contemptuous tone._

_Before they could attempt a reprimand she spoke once more with a halting hand raised in their direction, "Save me from your poisonous tongues."_

_The mortal glared with all the banked fire in her soul. Hating them, hating him, and hating the world she inhabited before she finally said, "Or this graceless half-breed will cut them out - I think my cold heart would warm at the sight."_

_She stalked closer to them and they unintentionally retreated, but not before the angel could resist a barb, "But we have provided the key after all."_

_It was enough to remind the mortal of her original purpose._

"_Indeed you have," was the only response given as she held out her hand expectantly. Upon her face the anger ebbed to reveal the same mask that reflected hints of sorrow and yet, unbending determination._

_The raven haired female dropped a velvet pouch into her upturned palm and quietly said, "Taken from his person directly."_

_There was a light to her eyes as she said it, implying shared intimacies with the man who owned the items. A condescending, sly, gluttonous expression._

_There was no response once more as the three eagerly watched for the barb to draw blood, but to their apparent disappointment her hand merely closed around the bag and she proceeded to retrieve the contents. There was a rustling sound and out appeared two small vials in the palm of her hand._

_Vials filled with an ominously dark liquid._

_The angel spoke first, "You are to drink the contents of one vial-"_

"_Only one and I must return the rest soon," broke in the raven one._

"_It cannot be missed amongst his possessions," said the dark lipped female._

_At the sharp glance she received for this it was added plaintively, "The consequences would be dire for us."_

"_I am surprised you would not run crowing to him of your achievement on this night?"_

_Regarding the fragile vials in her hand, she used the fingertips of her other hand to draw her heavy braid over one shoulder. She could feel the hot slide of sweat roll down her back._

_The heat in the room was almost unbearable for the mortal whilst the Others, all of them pure bloods, failed to the register the discomfort._

"_You may never have been destined for him, but you must know that he will lack your skill with a blade," said the angel. "But don't worry, it is doubtful your place cannot be filled quickly."_

"_Do you think so?"_

_She issued the query with an unpleasant smile. What she'd love to do to them was clearly written across her face._

"_As always you are a fountain of wisdom to my childish accumulation of knowledge."_

"_We seek only to help as your father was known to us. He would not wish to see you shame what was left to you as a legacy-"_

"_If you wish to stay then stay, but I had thought you might of possessed the courage required to free him of such a burden… Of you," said the fair angel._

_There was no mistaking the malice and the cutting edge. The dare placed before the mortal._

_With a last look in the direction of the Others she broke a single vial and swallowed the contents in haste. The contents must surely have tasted foul for the look that graced the mortal's face expressed distaste. More deadly, it took less than a moment for the mortal to appear in difficulty as she struggled for her next breath._

_The tincture was at work._

_The vial crashed to the floor as her hand wrapped around her throat in panic and the Others bore smiles of dawning relish. It was a tincture that worked much faster than expected, but that was because it had never been used on a mortal._

_They approached their struggling victim on three sides with the great fire roaring higher and higher to the front of the group. It crackled unnaturally as though sensing its victim drew ever nearer._

"_I have a confession child," murmured the angel. "We never knew your father and may only have given you one of the vials, where two might have eased your journey."_

_Her smile was genuine as it watched the young mortal bend in the midst of suffocation._

_So preoccupied with the sensation of drowning, the object of their hate never thought to strike out at the cause of her pain._

"_I hope there will be no lasting damage, but then with mixed blood such as yours..."_

_Another trailed off purposefully with delight colouring her tones._

_From the mortal's troubled stance it seemed unlikely she would survive anything beyond the flames and it pleased them greatly. For well over two decades they had wished to be rid of the mortal._

"_The purging of flame might very well cleanse you of that taint of bad blood," sneered the last of the Others. "There is no room for your kind here, there never was."_

"_Perhaps you will be granted better odds in the next life," murmured one with dark lips, but she laughed cruelly twisting the sentiment._

_Together they inched closed around her wilting figure, the sound of bunched bangles odd over the choking gasps from the mortal, and finally they pushed her doubled figure back into the pit of unnatural flames. It was an easy task as the vial had already accomplished more than they had hoped._

_So obviously, the young mortal struggled for her very breath and not even the flames, that seemed to lovingly licking her figure, could rip a scream from her throat. She eventually collapsed heavily on her side, where the flames burned brightest and the gathering light obscured most of her body._

_The centre of the great fire seemed to impossibly gain in size as a body fuelled its blaze with its bright core expanding even further to swallow the fallen female figure and still, it gathered volume so much so that the Others cast fearful glances at one another._

_The old rumours began to swirl in their minds._

"_We are doomed for this!"_

_The raven haired beauty called to her sisters over the roar and blinding sight before them. "The spirit of the Covens will know what we have done to Diana's daughter!"_

_The chamber shook, briefly instilling terror in them all, but eventually the flames receded to their previous size and then all was still. It was an unnerving hollow that settled as if they expected a vengeful spectator to suddenly appear._

"_She's gone," said one in a disbelieving tone as she lowered a protecting arm from her face and stared at the empty pit of flames looking for charred remains. "Did we not kill her?"_

"_What she has experienced will be worse than death. I have heard that passing between worlds takes a toll on the Undying, but she has not matured entirely or received the correct tincture-"_

"_Make no mistake, it is a deserved fate! Another year and she would have taken him from us completely," interrupted the angel. "Forced out into the wilds themselves!"_

_Her fierce expression cowed them out of their pity._

"_As is, her arrival as a mere babe left us out in the cold from his affection. We must rebuild what we had now she is gone."_

"_Can we-"_

"_We must! Now no more, we shall never speak of this again! Let us be gone, we have much to replace if we are to remain unscathed..."_

The bleary image faded and the mists of fog retreated to reveal the empty chamber with the same unnatural fire burning lower in the pit.

There were no leaping flames clawing for their next meal and there were no scheming wenches to be seen. It was quiet for the most part as the draw of power dissipated.

The one tall solitary figure in the room barked an order towards the open door to immediately summon his close aide. A cold voice, much used to authority, reverberated off the old stone walls of the room.

To the enquiring aide he instructed, "Call off the search and have the Council assembled in the audience chamber."

Not once did the figure look towards the aide he spoke to because orders from an Overlord were to be followed without question. There was no room for democracy in Markarth.

In fact orders normally were followed without question, but this was more than a usual circumstance.

Believing he had been dismissed without adequate explanation the aide reluctantly turned to leave under great duress, his bow taking an inordinate amount of time before turning away, but he was halted upon hearing his Overlord's voice once more.

"I was mistaken Enzio," he said in what passed for an apologetic demeanour.

Enzio's eyes snapped up at such a rare admittance to watch his Overlord. He took in the strange colour of his aura which gave away more than he knew.

The older being's hard gaze was directed at the depths of the fire pit that burned low in the room.

It was a look that Enzio had rarely seen before, but when it was glimpsed there was no doubt that the Overlord had a task he meant to see realised.

_Personally_.

"It took the memory held by these very stones for the truth to be realised," he finished with a gloved hand indicating imperially in the direction of the old stone around them. With a brief glance at his Second, the Overlord snatched his dark leather gloves off and declared again in dismissal, "Have the Council assembled immediately."

As much as it was a revelation for the Overlord to admit he may have erred, it was not enough for Enzio.

"I do not care for apologies or rights and wrongs, but I want to know where can I find her?"

The query was worded starkly and lacked the required protocol. It was a demand as Enzio moved around to stand in front of his Overlord, more than continuing to overstep the usual boundaries in his anxious state.

"_What_ have they done with her?"

"So sure they are responsible?"

The lack of respect from one so young was galling despite the gravity of the situation for the older being. He projected ice, purposefully goading Enzio with his words, "Perhaps they are not to blame and have been wronged-"

"Don't tempt me to do what should have been taken care of already," snarled Enzio in an uncharacteristic show of open defiance. "Those women should have been disposed of when they first crossed the line. You ignored the risk and now look at the consequences! _Where_ is she?"

There was a demonic light in the younger man's eyes which was an unusual display from the empath. It was clear that the Overlord's beast was not the only demon to be unsettled by the Dark Guard's unexpected departure.

"_They_ did this," he repeated, announcing what they both knew all too well.

The final sentence reverberated around the chamber in much the same way that the young mortal's words had much earlier and like then, the sound died a death with an uncomfortable result.

Not a sound from beyond the open door could be heard.

"You will remember your place before I put you back in it," came the quietly worded warning that had the younger man retreating.

The steely quality to the Overlord's gaze reminded anyone that his anger strained at the leash already. No further prompting was required.

"I do not need you clamouring for a chance at my throat - you are more use to her alive than dead," the Overlord announced making it clear who would best any challenge. "Remember that Enzio."

Enzio immediately responded in a far more subdued manner, "I offer my regrets, but I must know where she is."

He pulled an agitated hand through his usually impeccable hair.

None of the Elite had taken to rest since the young woman had gone missing, but perhaps because they were slightly closer in age and circumstance than any other, Enzio was further from himself than ever before.

His light shirt was lose and marked with dirt in places from his fruitless search. The darker trousers had fared no better. Not even when the Overlord had taken him from the skin traders had Enzio appeared so moved.

"She must be returned home. She was not happy at our last encounter, I know fear like never before now that she has been missing all this time. Her turning is-"

A pale and elegant hand was raised for quiet.

When silence reigned, a last lingering and very much calculating look at the pit of flames was administered before the Overlord turned to leave as if Enzio had not shared his innermost turmoil.

Additionally he plaintively ignored the pressing need to reveal what knowledge he now possessed to Enzio. However, when he was no further than a few steps from exiting through the door he did turn back abruptly and said, "Do as I have asked and no more."

It was curt reminder of an earlier instruction and not what Enzio had wanted. Burning with the need for retribution and subsequent answers to the apparent mystery, Enzio was still forced to bow low to his Overlord, a required mark of owed respect.

The bile in his throat was just something he would manage, but manage he would, however hard it was a struggle for his usual discipline.

When Enzio was sure that the attention of his Overlord had left him, he raised himself to his full height and watched the dark figure disappear out the door. The malevolent aura of unrest followed him - it would not be long before action was taken.

Patience was all that was required.

###

**The Mad Overlord's Queen is due to be published from Thursday 25th December 2014.**


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